Even the doe in the field forsakes her newborn fawn because there is no grass.
Naphtali is a doe let loose that bears lovely fawns.
The voice of the Lord causes the oaks to whirl, and strips the forest bare; and in his temple all say, “Glory!”
the waters of Nimrim are a desolation; the grass is withered, the new growth fails, the verdure is no more.
How the animals groan! The herds of cattle wander about because there is no pasture for them; even the flocks of sheep are dazed.