Are friends loyal to the one who despairs, or do they stop fearing the Almighty?
My companions are treacherous like a stream in the desert, like channels that overrun their streambeds,
like those darkened by thawing ice, in which snow is obscured
but that stop flowing in dry times and vanish from their channels in heat.
Caravans turn aside from their paths; they go up into untamed areas and perish.
Caravans from Tema look; merchants from Sheba hope for it.
They are ashamed that they trusted; they arrive and are dismayed.
That's what you are like; you see something awful and are afraid.