Ephraim hath been smitten, Their root hath dried up, fruit they yield not, Yea, though they bring forth, I have put to death the desired of their womb.

Though he among brethren produceth fruit, Come in doth an east wind, a wind of Jehovah, From a wilderness it is coming up, And it drieth up his fountain, And become dry doth his spring, It -- it spoileth a treasure -- every desirable vessel.

Lest I strip her naked. And have set her up as in the day of her birth, And have made her as a wilderness, And have set her as a dry land, And have put her to death with thirst.

Give to them, Jehovah -- what dost Thou give? Give to them miscarrying womb, and dry breasts.