"Be off, O flies, and tickle your world."
So they brought her flocks to devour the grass,
Wrestling on as she sought for something--
Over hill and dale, through day and night, seeking for something.
"They have trodden my palm as hard as a cake."
So they caught up a plough and ploughed her hand,
Wrestling on while she sought for something--
Over hill and dale, through day and night, seeking for something.
"You have furrowed my palm; it tickles and smarts."
So they brought a weaver and wove her lint,