His undersides are like sharp potsherds, leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge.
Clubs are counted as stubble. He laughs at the rushing of the javelin.
He makes the deep to boil like a pot. He makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
Behold, I have made you into a new sharp threshing instrument with teeth. You will thresh the mountains, and beat them small, and will make the hills like chaff.