like leaves

But the distant deadly Archer volleyed back, "God of the earthquake- -you'd think me hardly sane if I fought with you for the sake of wretched mortals . . . like leaves, no sooner flourishing, full of the sun's fire, feeding on earth's gifts, than they waste away and die. Stop. Call off this skirmish of ours at once- let these mortals fight themselves to death."'. Illiad XXI.526