He will never return to his house; his home town will no longer remember him.
If he is uprooted from his place, it will deny knowing him, saying, ‘I never saw you.’
The eye that saw him will see him no more, and his household will no longer see him.
It claps its hands at him and scoffs at him from its place.
An east wind picks him up, and he is gone; it carries him away from his place.
he will vanish for ever like his own dung. Those who know him will ask, ‘Where is he? ’
But now that he is dead, why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I’ll go to him, but he will never return to me.’