Thou bindest them by Thy love.
Though Thou art afar, Thy rays are on earth;
Though Thou art on high, Thy footprints are the day.
When Thou settest in the western horizon of heaven,
The world is in darkness like the dead.
Men sleep in their chambers,
Their heads are wrapped up,
Their nostrils stopped, and none seeth the other.
Stolen are all their things that are under their heads,
While they know it not.