Add parallel Print Page Options

A warrior’s sharp arrows,
with red-hot coals from a broom tree.

How wretched I am, that I’m an alien in Meshekh,
that I must live among the tents of Keidar!
I have had to live far too long
with those who hate peace.

Read full chapter

Sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals of juniper.

Woe is me, that I sojourn in Mesech, that I dwell in the tents of Kedar!

My soul hath long dwelt with him that hateth peace.

Read full chapter