ج َفَّ جَدوَلُ نِمْرِيمَ. العُشبُ يَبِسَ، وَالنَّباتاتُ ماتَتْ، وَلَمْ يَبقَ عِرْقٌ أخضَرُ.
For the waters of Nimrim are desolations, for the grass is withered away and the new growth fails; there is no green thing.