Reuben, you’re my firstborn, my strength, first proof of my manhood, at the top in honor and at the top in power, But like a bucket of water spilled, you’ll be at the top no more, Because you climbed into your father’s marriage bed, mounting that couch, and you defiled it.
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You, Judah, your brothers will praise you: Your fingers on your enemies’ throat, while your brothers honor you. You’re a lion’s cub, Judah, home fresh from the kill, my son. Look at him, crouched like a lion, king of beasts; who dares mess with him? The scepter shall not leave Judah; he’ll keep a firm grip on the command staff Until the ultimate ruler comes and the nations obey him. He’ll tie up his donkey to the grapevine, his purebred prize to a sturdy branch. He will wash his shirt in wine and his cloak in the blood of grapes, His eyes will be darker than wine, his teeth whiter than milk.
Compare All Versions: Genesis 49:3-4, 8-12
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