He is a well-watered plant in the sun, its shoots spread over its garden.
I myself have seen the fool taking root, but suddenly I cursed his place of residence.
It wraps its roots around a heap of stones and it looks for a place among stones.
Its branches reached the Mediterranean Sea, and its shoots the Euphrates River.
I, the Lord, once called you a thriving olive tree, one that produced beautiful fruit. But I will set you on fire, fire that will blaze with a mighty roar. Then all your branches will be good for nothing.