His breath kindles coals, and a flame comes forth from his mouth.
Smoke went up from his nostrils, and devouring fire from his mouth; glowing coals flamed forth from him.
Before him went pestilence, and plague followed close behind.
For a burning place has long been prepared; yea, for the king it is made ready, its pyre made deep and wide, with fire and wood in abundance; the breath of the Lord, like a stream of brimstone, kindles it.
Out of the brightness before him there broke through his clouds hailstones and coals of fire.
Out of his nostrils comes forth smoke, as from a boiling pot and burning rushes.
In his neck abides strength, and terror dances before him.
The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon it; surely the people is grass.