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I see a woman on the back of an ox. In her hand she holds a torch, and her flame consumes fields and forests. There is no bunch of grapes in the vineyard and no must in the wine barrel. No food comes from the vegetable garden. That is why the world is desperately begging for grain and food.

But the answer comes, where you had to save, you just wasted. Therefore, stay hungry and with it also thirsty. I see a man on a pale grey horse. From his hand he spreads over the world a cork-dry skin karos. I see people beat themselves up over this in self-pity. But he answers. By your own doing you deforested the fertile forest out of greed.

I see an archangel faithful to his post. With braces of gold that tighten around his noble breast. Look, from the great famine and pestilence man will not be delivered. He cries: No ration for the West, no wheat for a dollar and no barley for a pound. Therefore, do not damage the last bit of flour and do not waste the oil in the widow’s jar, for Sion’s sake. But let the famine together with the pestilence be released over the whole world as destroyer.