No food shall they have save from the foul thorn, which shall not fatten nor avail against hunger!
And the fellows of the left—what unlucky fellows!
In hot blasts and boiling water;
And a shade of pitchy smoke,
Neither cool nor generous!
Verily, they were affluent ere this, and did persist in mighty crime and say ‘What, when we die and have become dust and bones, shall we then indeed be raised?’
Then ye, Oh ye who err! who say it is a lie!
Shall eat of the Zaqqūm tree!
And fill yourselves with it!
And drink thereon of boiling water!