In the womb he attacked his brother; in his manly vigor he struggled with God.

Then you will call your brother, “My People” (Ammi)! You will call your sister, “Pity” (Ruhamah)!

Even though he flourishes like a reed plant, a scorching east wind will come, a wind from the Lord rising up from the desert. As a result, his spring will dry up; his well will become dry. That wind will spoil all his delightful foods in the containers in his storehouse.