A wild ass, taught of the desert, In the desire of her soul, she snuffeth the wind, In her occasion, who can turn her back? None who seek her, will weary themselves, In her month, they shall find her!

Yea, wild asses stand still on the bare heights, They pant for air like jackals, - Dimmed are their eyes Because there is no grass.

With the burial of an ass, shall he be buried, Dragged along and cast forth, beyond the gates of Jerusalem.