Does papyrus grow apart from a marsh? Does a reed flourish without water?
While still tender, uncut, it will wither before every other grass.
So are the paths of all who forget God. Hope perishes for the godless,
whose confidence is a fragile thing, their trust, a spider's web.
He leans on its web, and it doesn't stand; grasps it, and it can't remain in place.
It's like a well-watered plant in the sun; its runners spread over its gardens.
Its roots are entwined over a pile of rocks, for it sees a home among stones.
If it's uprooted from its place, it lies, saying, "I can't see you."
Surely its way is a joy, for from the dust other plants sprout.