Do not rejoice, Philistia, not one of you, that the rod which struck you is broken; For out of the serpent’s root shall come an adder, its offspring shall be a flying saraph.
But you have plowed wickedness, reaped perversity, and eaten the fruit of falsehood. Because you have trusted in your own power, and in your many warriors,
When they sow the wind, they will reap the whirlwind; The stalk of grain that forms no head can yield no flour; Even if it could, strangers would swallow it.