The sun rises; they are gathered, and go to their dens to lie down.
Then the beast goes into its lair, and they stay in their dens.
Your rulers are like the locusts, and your officials are a swarm of locusts that camp in the hedges in the cold day. The sun rises and they flee, and the place where they are is not known.
For everyone practicing wickedness hates the Light, and does not come to the Light, that his works may not be exposed.