at the scent of water it will bud and sprout sprigs like a new plant.
But man dies and is powerless. Man expires—and where is he?
Though its roots grow old in the earth and its stump dies in the dry ground,
“Your mother was like a vine in your blood, planted by the water. It was fruitful and full of branches because of abundant water.
Yet leave a stump with its roots in the earth, in fetters of iron and bronze, in the tender grass of the field. Let him be damp with the dew of heaven, and let his portion be with the animals in the grass of the earth.