“Look out! Water will rise in the north country,
    swelling like a river in flood.
The torrent will flood the land,
    washing away city and citizen.
Men and women will scream in terror,
    wails from every door and window,
As the thunder from the hooves of the horses will be heard,
    the clatter of chariots, the banging of wheels.
Fathers, paralyzed by fear,
    won’t even grab up their babies
Because it will be doomsday for Philistines, one and all,
    no hope of help for Tyre and Sidon.
God will finish off the Philistines,
    what’s left of those from the island of Crete.
Gaza will be shaved bald as an egg,
    Ashkelon struck dumb as a post.
You’re on your last legs.
    How long will you keep flailing?

⁶ “Oh, Sword of God,
    how long will you keep this up?
Return to your scabbard.
    Haven’t you had enough? Can’t you call it quits?

⁷ “But how can it quit
    when I, God, command the action?
I’ve ordered it to cut down
    Ashkelon and the seacoast.”