His undersides are like sharp potsherds; He spreads pointed marks in the mire.
Darts are regarded as straw; He laughs at the threat of javelins.
He makes the deep boil like a pot; He makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
“Behold, I will make you into a new threshing sledge with sharp teeth; You shall thresh the mountains and beat them small, And make the hills like chaff.