W hen its limbs are dry, they are broken off; Women come and make a fire with them, For they are not a people of discernment, Therefore their Maker will not have compassion on them. And their Creator will not be gracious to them.
Quand les rameaux sèchent, on les brise; Des femmes viennent, pour les brûler. C'était un peuple sans intelligence: Aussi celui qui l'a fait n'a point eu pitié de lui, Celui qui l'a formé ne lui a point fait grâce.
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