8-10 “Open up, heavens, and rain.
    Clouds, pour out buckets of my goodness!
Loosen up, earth, and bloom salvation;
    sprout right living.
    I, God, generate all this.
But doom to you who fight your Maker—
    you’re a pot at odds with the potter!
Does clay talk back to the potter:
    ‘What are you doing? What clumsy fingers!’
Would a sperm say to a father,
    ‘Who gave you permission to use me to make a baby?’
Or a fetus to a mother,
    ‘Why have you cooped me up in this belly?’”

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“You heavens above, rain(A) down my righteousness;(B)
    let the clouds shower it down.
Let the earth open wide,
    let salvation(C) spring up,
let righteousness flourish with it;
    I, the Lord, have created it.

“Woe to those who quarrel(D) with their Maker,(E)
    those who are nothing but potsherds(F)
    among the potsherds on the ground.
Does the clay say to the potter,(G)
    ‘What are you making?’(H)
Does your work say,
    ‘The potter has no hands’?(I)
10 Woe to the one who says to a father,
    ‘What have you begotten?’
or to a mother,
    ‘What have you brought to birth?’

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