Come now, you rich men, weep and shriek over your impending miseries!
up comes the sun with the scorching wind and withers the grass, its flower drops off, and the splendour of it is ruined: so shall the rich fade away amid their pursuits.
Come now, you who say, "To-day or to-morrow we are going to such and such a city; we shall spend a year there trading and making money" —
Now you insult the poor. Is it not the rich who lord it over you and drag you to court?
Lament and mourn and weep, let your laughter be turned to mourning, and your joy to depression;