Rotherham(i)
13 The wing of the Ostrich that waveth itself joyfully, Is it the pinion of lovingkindness or the plumage?
14 For she leaveth––to the earth––her eggs, and, on the dust, she letteth them be warmed;
15 And hath forgotten, that, a foot, may crush them,––or, the wild beast, tread on them!
16 Dealing hardly with her young, as none–of hers, In vain, her labour, without dread.