For the sun rises along with the blistering wind and scorches the grass. The flowers fall and their beauty is marred. Everything the rich achieve will fade in just the same way.
Tragedy is coming to the city of Samaria, the crowning glory of Ephraim's drunks, to the fading flower of wonderful beauty, sitting above a fertile valley, and beloved by those hammered by wine.
That fading flower of wonderful beauty, sitting above a fertile valley, will be like figs ripe before the summer harvest—as soon as people discover them, they grab and eat them.
So if God decorates the fields like this, grass which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, won't he do much more for you, you people who trust so little?