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And You, God, will make it happen. You bolstered the nation,
    making it great again. You have saturated it with joy.
Everyone in it is full of delight in Your presence,
    like the joy they experience at the harvest,
    like the thrill of dividing up the spoils of war.
For as You did back in the day when Midian oppressed us,
    You will shatter the yoke that burdens them,
You will lift the load that weighs them down,
    You will break the rod of their oppressor.
It’s true. All the fabric of war will go up in flames:
    the troops’ heavy boots that stamped us down and their blood-soaked garb
Will all be burned beyond recognition or use.
    There will be a new time, a fresh start.

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