I’m already like a leaf that is blown by the wind. Are you going to terrify me even more? I’m already like dry straw. Are you going to keep on chasing me?
My God, my God, why have you deserted me? Why do you seem so far away when I need you to save me? Why do you seem so far away that you can’t hear my groans?
They are planted. They are scattered like seeds. They put down roots in the ground. But as soon as that happens, God blows on them and they dry up. Then a windstorm sweeps them away like straw.
“Who has stirred up a king from the east? Who has helped him win his battles? I hand nations over to him. I bring kings under his control. He turns them into dust with his sword. With his bow he turns them into straw blowing in the wind.
His pitchfork is in his hand to clear the straw from his threshing floor. He will gather his wheat into the storeroom. But he will burn up the husks with fire that can’t be put out.”