وَإِنَّ لَكُمْ فِى ٱلْأَنْعَـٰمِ لَعِبْرَةً ۖ نُّسْقِيكُم مِّمَّا فِى بُطُونِهِۦ مِنۢ بَيْنِ فَرْثٍ وَدَمٍ لَّبَنًا خَالِصًا سَآئِغًا لِّلشَّـٰرِبِينَ
Wa inna lakum fil an'aami la'ibrah; nusqeekum mimmmaa fee butoonihee mim baini farsinw wa damil labanann khaalisan saaa'ighallish shaaribeen
Zaprawdę, macie pouczający przykład w waszych trzodach! My poimy was tym, co jest w ich wnętrznościach, między pokarmem strawionym a krwią - mlekiem czystym, przyjemnym dla pijących.
And in the livestock there is surely a lesson for you. We give you to drink from what is in their bellies — between waste and blood — pure milk, easy to swallow for those who drink.
Ibrah, the word for the lesson here, comes from a root meaning to cross over, the same root behind the interpretation of a dream. The invitation is to cross from what can be seen to what it means, and the passage runs a whole sequence of such crossings: rain, milk, the vine, the bee. Milk is the plainest of them, drawn out of the body's least likely quarter.