¶ Woe is me! for I am as when they have gathered the summer fruits, as the grapegleanings of the vintage: there is no cluster to eat: my soul desired the firstripe fruit.
Woe is me! For I am as when the summer fruits have been gathered, as when the vintage grapes have been gleaned and there is no cluster to eat, no first-ripe fig for which my appetite craves.
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