The papyrus reeds by the River, by the mouth of the River, And everything sown by the River, Will wither, be driven away, and be no more.
And now she is planted in the wilderness, In a dry and thirsty land.
Because the ground is parched, For there was no rain in the land, The plowmen were ashamed; They covered their heads.
Blessed are you who sow beside all waters, Who send out freely the feet of the ox and the donkey.
And on great waters the grain of Shihor, The harvest of the River, is her revenue; And she is a marketplace for the nations.
Suddenly there came up out of the river seven cows, fine looking and fat; and they fed in the meadow.
Overflow through your land like the River, O daughter of Tarshish; There is no more strength.