He looketh round about the mountains of his pasture, and seeketh for every green thing.
To him the mountains bring forth grass: there all the beasts of the field shall play.
And upon whatsoever thing any of these dead beasts shall fall, it shall be unclean. Whether it be oven, or pots with feet, they shall be destroyed, and shall be unclean.
He scorneth the multitude of the city, he heareth not the cry of the driver.
Shall the rhinoceros be willing to serve thee, or will he stay at thy crib?
Will the wild ass bray when he hath grass? Or will the ox low when he standeth before a full manger?