Àwọn Ẹsẹ Bíbélì Tí Ọ̀pọ̀ Èèyàn Mọ Joel 3

Pín

Beat your plowshares into swords And your pruning hooks into spears; Let the weak say, “I am a mighty man.”

The sun and moon grow dark And the stars lose their brightness. The LORD roars from Zion And utters His voice from Jerusalem, And the heavens and the earth tremble. But the LORD is a refuge for His people And a stronghold to the sons of Israel.