and the fading flower of its splendid comeliness that is on the head of the fertile valley, like the first fruit before the summer, which, when one sees it, he eats it up while it is still in his hand.
Woe to the proud crown of the drunkards of Ephrayim, and to the fading flower of its splendid comeliness that is on the head of the fertile valley, to those who are overcome with wine!
for before the child knows to cry ‘My father’ and ‘My mother,’ the riches of Damascus and the spoil of Shomeron is taken away before the sovereign of Ashshur.”
“Though he bears fruit among his brothers, an east wind comes, a wind from יהוה comes up from the wilderness, and it dries up his fountain, and his spring becomes dry – it plunders a treasure of all desirable objects.
“Ephrayim has been smitten, their root has dried up, they yield no fruit. Even if they bear children, I shall put to death the precious ones of their womb.”
Woe to me! For I am as gatherings of summer fruit, as gleanings of the grape harvest. There is no cluster to eat. My being has desired the first-ripe fruit.