They are dark because of ice; snow is piled up over them.

He sends the snow that is white like wool; he spreads the frost that is white like ashes.

If I wash myself with snow water, and make my hands clean with lye,

The drought as well as the heat carry away the melted snow; so the grave takes away those who have sinned.

Have you entered the storehouse of the snow, or seen the armory of the hail,

O fire and hail, snow and clouds, O stormy wind that carries out his orders,

Like the cold of snow in the time of harvest, so is a faithful messenger to those who send him, for he refreshes the heart of his masters.

Does the snow ever completely vanish from the rocky slopes of Lebanon? Do the cool waters from those distant mountains ever cease to flow?