I planted, Apollos watered, but God was giving growth;

Thy mother is as a vine in thy blood by waters planted, Fruitful and full of boughs it hath been, Because of many waters.

And it taketh of the seed of the land, And doth put it in a field of seed, To take by many waters, In a conspicuous place it hath set it.

On a good field, by many waters, it is planted, To make branches, and to bear fruit, To be for an goodly vine.

And he is fair in his greatness, In the length of his thin shoots, For his root hath been by great waters.

And hath been as a tree planted by waters, And by a rivulet he sendeth forth his roots, And he doth not see when heat cometh, And his leaf hath been green, And in a year of dearth he is not sorrowful, Nor doth he cease from making fruit.

Waters have made it great, The deep hath exalted him with its flowings, Going round about its planting, And its conduits it hath sent forth unto all trees of the field.

And by the stream there cometh up on its edge, on this side and on that side, every kind of fruit-tree whose leaf fadeth not, and not consumed is its fruit, according to its months it yieldeth first-fruits, because its waters from the sanctuary are coming forth; and its fruits hath been for food, and its leaf for medicine.