Suddenly he shouted, “My head hurts. It hurts a lot!” “Carry him back to his mother,” the father said to his servant.
One day while the boy was still young, he was out in the fields with his father, where the workers were harvesting the crops.
The servant picked up the boy and carried him to his mother. The boy lay on her lap all morning, and by midday he was dead.
I can't stand the pain! My heart pounds, as I twist and turn in agony. I hear the signal trumpet and the battle cry of the enemy, and I cannot be silent.