For she leaves her eggs on the ground, And warms them in the dust;
“The wings of the ostrich wave proudly, But are her wings and pinions like the kindly stork’s?
She forgets that a foot may crush them, Or that a wild beast may break them.
Like a bird that wanders from its nest Is a man who wanders from his place.
Then it shall be for a man to burn, For he will take some of it and warm himself; Yes, he kindles it and bakes bread; Indeed he makes a god and worships it; He makes it a carved image, and falls down to it.
Even the jackals present their breasts To nurse their young; But the daughter of my people is cruel, Like ostriches in the wilderness.