Do not stare at me because I am dark, because the sun has looked upon me with its heat. My mother’s sons were angry with me. They made me the keeper of the vineyards, but my own vineyard I have not kept.
For You have been a defense to the poor, a defense to the needy in his distress, a refuge from the storm, a shadow from the heat; for the breath of the ruthless ones is as a storm against the wall.
When the sun rose, God appointed a scorching east wind, and the sun beat upon the head of Jonah so that he became faint and asked that he might die. He said, “It is better for me to die than to live.”
For the sun rises with a burning heat and it withers the grass, and its flowers fall, and its beauty perishes. So will the rich man wither away in his ways.
These are the ones who are stains on your love feasts as they feast with you irreverently and care only for themselves. They are clouds without water, carried along by winds; autumn trees without fruit, twice dead, uprooted;