One satisfied loathes the honeycomb, But to a hungry one any bitter food is sweet.
I refuse to touch it, they are like food when I am sick.
My son, eat honey, for it is good, And the honeycomb, sweet to your taste;
The wounds of a friend are true, But the kisses of an enemy are profuse.
Like a bird that wanders from its nest, So is a man who wanders from his place.
And the people spoke against Elohim and against Mosheh, “Why have you brought us up out of Mitsrayim to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and our being loathes this light bread.”
“Here is a boy who has five barley loaves and two fishes, but what are these for so many?”