Don't look down on me because I'm black, because the sun has burned me. My brothers were angry with me and made me look after the vineyards, so I couldn't look after my own vineyard.
But you have protected the poor and needy when they were in trouble, you shielded them from storms and shaded them from the heat. For the actions of brutal people are like rain beating against a wall,
Then as the sun came up the Lord arranged for a scorching east wind to blow, and the sun beat down on Jonah's head so that he became faint and wanted to die. “I'd rather die than live!” he said.
Other seeds fell on stony ground where there wasn't much earth. In the shallow soil the plants started growing quickly, but because the soil wasn't deep
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.
These people spoil your fellowship meals, for they are selfish shepherds that don't have the slightest sense of shame—they only take care of themselves. They're clouds blown along by the wind that bring no rain. They're bare trees without fruit—twice dead, pulled out by the roots.