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30 Under him [are] sharp points of clay, He spreadeth gold on the mire.

31 He causeth to boil as a pot the deep, The sea he maketh as a pot of ointment.

32 After him he causeth a path to shine, One thinketh the deep to be hoary.

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30 Its undersides are jagged potsherds,
    leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge.(A)
31 It makes the depths churn like a boiling caldron(B)
    and stirs up the sea like a pot of ointment.(C)
32 It leaves a glistening wake behind it;
    one would think the deep had white hair.

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