10 It is sharpened for slaughter, it is polished to flash like lightning! “‘Should we rejoice in the scepter of my son? No! The sword despises every tree!
10 It is sharpened for sore slaughter, it is furbished that it may glitter. Shall we then make mirth, [saying,] The sceptre of my son contemneth all woodD5706?
wood - 'It despiseth the rod of my son as [all] wood.'
10 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 contemneth the rod of my son, as every tree: Or, it is the rod of my son, it despiseth every tree.
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