Our garners, full, pouring out from one kind to another; Our flocks, multiplying by thousands - by myriads, in our open fields:

Rotted hath the seed, under their clods, Laid waste are their stores, Thrown down are the garners, - Yea abashed is the corn.

But they who have garnered it, shall eat it, and praise Yahweh, - And they who have gathered in its clusters, shall drink it in my holy courts.