Points of potsherds are under him; he spreads sharp marks on the mire.
clubs are counted as stubble; he laughs at the shaking of a javelin.
He makes the deep boil like a pot; he makes the sea like a pot of ointment;
Behold! I have set you a new sharp threshing instrument, a master of teeth; you shall thresh mountains and beat and crush them small, and shall make hills like the chaff.