Who is giving rain on the face of the land, And is sending waters on the out-places.

In His making for the rain a limit, And a way for the brightness of the voices,

And they wait as for rain for me, And their mouth they have opened wide As for the latter rain.

Surely not against the heap Doth He send forth the hand, Though in its ruin they have safety.

If I rejoice at the ruin of my hater, And stirred up myself when evil found him,

When He doth diminish droppings of the waters, They refine rain according to its vapour,

For to snow He saith, 'Be on the earth.' And the small rain and great rain of His power.

To cause it to rain on a land -- no man, A wilderness -- no man in it.

Hath the rain a father? Or who hath begotten the drops of dew?