3 They are dried up from lack and hunger, they flee to a parched land, formerly a waste and ruin.
4 They pluck salt herbs by the bushes, and broom tree roots for their food.
5 They were driven out from among men, they shouted at them as at a thief,
6 to dwell in the gullies of wadis, holes of the ground and clefts.
7 Among the bushes they cry out, under the nettles they huddled together –
8 sons of fools, even sons without a name, they have been whipped out of the land.
9 And now I have become their song, and I am a byword to them.