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14 With their own shafts you pierce the heads of warriors
        when they storm out to scatter us.
    Their celebration is like that of those who devour the poor in secret,
15 but you trample on the sea with your horses,
    on the surging, powerful waters.
16 When I hear about it, my stomach churns.
    The sound makes my lips quiver.
    My bones decay,
    and my knees tremble,
    as I wait for the day of disaster to come upon the people who attack us.

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