All you beasts of the field, come and eat, all you beasts of the forest!
The lookouts are blind; they all lack sense. They are all mute dogs that can't bark, dreamers, loungers, loving to sleep.
But the dogs have monstrous appetites. They never have enough. They are shepherds who don't understand. All of them have turned to their own ways, every last one greedy for profit.
"Come! I'll get some wine! Let's drink beer! Tomorrow will be like today, or even much better."