Ezequiel 21

Et toute chair saura Que moi, l’Éternel, j’ai tiré mon épée de son fourreau. Elle n’y rentrera plus.

Para degollar víctimas está afilada, acicalada está para que relumbre. ¿Hemos de alegrarnos? A la vara de mi hijo viene menospreciando todo árbol.

It is sharpened to make a sore slaughter; it is furbished that it may glitter: should we then make mirth? it contemneth the rod of my son, as every tree.

It is sharpened that it may make a slaughter. It is polished that it may be as lightning. Should we then make mirth? The rod of my son condemns every tree.