There is hope for a tree:
If it is cut down, it will sprout again,
and its shoots will not die.

He will be like a vine that drops its unripe grapes
and like an olive tree that sheds its blossoms.

He tears me down on every side so that I am ruined.
He uproots my hope like a tree.

The womb forgets them;
worms feed on them;
they are remembered no more.
So injustice is broken like a tree.

They plucked mallow among the shrubs,
and the roots of the broom tree were their food.