Clubs are counted as stubble; he laughs at the rattle of javelins.
And Uzziah prepared for all the army shields, spears, helmets, coats of mail, bows, and stones for slinging.
The arrow cannot make him flee; for him slingstones are turned to stubble.
His underparts are like sharp potsherds; he spreads himself like a threshing sledge on the mire.
