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And their wounded are cast out, And their carcases cause their stench to ascend, And melted have been mountains from their blood.

And consumed have been all the host of the heavens, And rolled together as a book have been the heavens, And all their hosts do fade, As the fading of a leaf of a vine, And as the fading one of a fig-tree.

For soaked in the heavens was My sword, Lo, on Edom it cometh down, On the people of My curse for judgment.

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