They have hardly been planted. They have hardly been sown. They have hardly taken root in the ground. Then he blows on them and they wither, and a windstorm sweeps them away like straw.
“Who has raised up from the east someone to whom the Lord gives victory with every step he takes? Nations are handed over to him. He defeats kings. With his sword he turns them into dust. With his bow he turns them into straw blown by the wind.
His winnowing shovel is in his hand, and he will clean up his threshing floor. He will gather his wheat into a barn, but he will burn the husks in a fire that can never be put out.”