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In the meagre bunch of grapes, there is also little must in the wine barrel.  Over this, Raca is grim, yes, because he is hungry, and he is thirsty. Savagely he hits himself on the chest over this. He calls: Look, I am Cush, Africa’s only king. But with the pestilence that does not want to let go of the East, they cunningly con Raca. The West also says: We ourselves have a lack of food.     

Therefore, steal each other’s last goat, cow or ox. A big volcano now spreads its grey ash-kaross across the Africa plain. The veld and bush burn all around that region. Africa nations and tribes pray, oh God, who will come to save us? Look how we are dying of hunger and thirst. In cannibalism they also do not waste human flesh. Because on the extremely meagre bunch of grapes, there are no granules.