My root will be open to the waters, and the night mist will be on my branches,

For he takes up the drops from the sea; he sends them through his mist as rain,

See, he is stretching out his mist, covering the tops of the mountains with it.

Has the rain a father? or who gave birth to the drops of night mist?

Out of whose body came the ice? and who gave birth to the cold mist of heaven?