So doth he become like a tree planted by streams of waters,—that yieldeth, its fruit, in its season, whose leaf, also doth not wither, and, whatsoever he doeth, prospereth.
For he shall become like a tree planted by waters, And, by a stream, shall he send out his roots, Neither shall he perceive when heat cometh, But, his leaf shall continue green: Even in a year of dearth, shall he not be anxious, Neither shall he cease from hearing fruit.
These are they—who, in your love-feasts, are hidden rocks, as they fare sumptuously together, fearlessly, themselves, shepherding,—clouds without water, by winds swept along, trees autumnal, fruitless, twice dead, uprooted,
But, I, was as a gentle lamb that is to be led to the slaughter,—and I knew not that against me, they had devised devices saying —Let us destroy the tree with its fruit Yea let us cut him off out of the land of the living, And, his name, shall be remembered no more!
To appoint unto the mourners of Zion—To give unto them A chaplet instead of ashes, The oil of joy instead of mourning, The mantle of praise instead of the spirit of dejection,—So shall they be called The oaks of righteousness, The plantation of Yahweh: That he may get himself glory