A green olive-tree, fair with goodly fruit, did Yahweh call thy name, - with the noise of a great tumult, hath he kindled fire upon it, and the branches thereof shall be broken.

Mere palm-trunks turned, they are and cannot speak, They must needs be, carried, for they cannot take a step, Be not afraid of them, for they cannot do harm, And even to do good, is not in their power.