He causeth an east wind to journey in the heavens, And leadeth by His strength a south wind,

And He rideth on a cherub, and doth fly, And He flieth on wings of wind.

And I beat them as dust before wind, As mire of the streets I empty them out.

Not so the wicked: But -- as chaff that wind driveth away!

He poureth on the wicked snares, fire, and brimstone, And a horrible wind is the portion of their cup.

By an east wind Thou shiverest ships of Tarshish.

They are as chaff before wind, And a messenger of Jehovah driving away.

I hasten escape for myself, From a rushing wind, from a whirlwind.

And He remembereth that they are flesh, A wind going on -- and it returneth not.

O my God, make them as a rolling thing, As stubble before wind.

For a wind hath passed over it, and it is not, And its place doth not discern it any more.

Who is laying the beam of His upper chambers in the waters, Who is making thick clouds His chariot, Who is walking on wings of wind,

Causing vapours to ascend from the end of the earth, Lightnings for the rain He hath made, Bringing forth wind from His treasures.

He sendeth forth His word and melteth them, He causeth His wind to blow -- the waters flow.