ق الَ لِي صَوتٌ: «نادِ.» فَقُلْتُ: «بِماذا أُنادِي؟» فَقالَ: «البَشَرُ جَمِيعاً كَالعُشْبِ، وَثَباتُهُمْ كَثَباتِ الزُّهُورِ البَرِّيَّةِ.
A voice says, Cry! And I said, What shall I cry? All flesh is as frail as grass, and all that makes it attractive is transitory, like the flower of the field.
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