May they be like grass on the rooftops withered in early growth,
Behind them sprouted seven ears of grain, shriveled and thin and scorched by the east wind;
Their people powerless, dismayed and distraught. They are plants of the field, green growth, thatch on the rooftops, Grain scorched by the east wind.
Like grass they wither quickly; like green plants they wilt away.
A senseless person cannot know this; a fool cannot comprehend.
Their people powerless, dismayed and distraught, They are plants of the field, green growth, thatch on the rooftops, Grain scorched by the east wind.
and when the sun rose it was scorched, and it withered for lack of roots.