Even though he flourishes like a reed plant, a scorching east wind will come, a wind from the Lord rising up from the desert. As a result, his spring will dry up; his well will become dry. That wind will spoil all his delightful foods in the containers in his storehouse.

Therefore they will disappear like the morning mist, like early morning dew that evaporates, like chaff that is blown away from a threshing floor, like smoke that disappears through an open window.

They are all like bakers, they are like a smoldering oven; they are like a baker who does not stoke the fire until the kneaded dough is ready for baking.

I will attack them like a bear robbed of her cubs -- I will rip open their chests. I will devour them there like a lion -- like a wild animal would tear them apart.

I will be like the dew to Israel; he will blossom like a lily, he will send down his roots like a cedar of Lebanon.