Their inhabitants are powerless; they are terrified and ashamed. They are like grass of the field and new vegetation, grass on the roof tops, scorched before it stands.
Though he be fruitful among his brothers, the east wind will come, a wind of the Lord, rising from the wilderness. And his spring shall become dry, his fountain shall be dried up. It shall plunder his treasury of every desirable thing.
For they sow the wind, and they will reap the whirlwind. The standing grain has no head and will yield no flour. If it were to yield, foreigners would swallow it up.