God sets the lonely in families. He brings out the prisoners with singing, but the rebellious dwell in a sun-scorched land.

Don't stare at me because I am dark, because the sun has scorched me. My mother's sons were angry with me. They made me keeper of the vineyards. I haven't kept my own vineyard.

When the sun had risen, they were scorched. Because they had no root, they withered away.

When the sun had risen, it was scorched; and because it had no root, it withered away.