yet at the scent of water it will bud and put forth branches like a young plant.
But man dies, and is laid low; man breathes his last, and where is he?
Though its root grow old in the earth, and its stump die in the ground,
Your mother was like a vine in a vineyard transplanted by the water, fruitful and full of branches by reason of abundant water.
Its leaves were fair and its fruit abundant, and in it was food for all. The beasts of the field found shade under it, and the birds of the air dwelt in its branches, and all flesh was fed from it.