For from the face of destructions they fled, From the face of a stretched-out sword, And from the face of a trodden bow, And from the face of the grievousness of battle.
And He saith, `Thou dost not add any more to exult, O oppressed one, virgin daughter of Zidon, To Chittim arise, pass over, Even there--there is no rest for thee.'
Spread-out silver from Tarshish is brought, And gold from Uphaz, Work of an artisan, and of the hands of a refiner, Blue and purple is their clothing, Work of the skilful--all of them.
And Jonah riseth to flee to Tarshish from the face of Jehovah, and goeth down to Joppa, and findeth a ship going to Tarshish, and he giveth its fare, and goeth down into it, to go with them to Tarshish from the face of Jehovah.