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The sharpened arrows of a warrior,
with burning charcoals from broom trees.
Woe to me, that I sojourn in Meshech,
that I dwell among the tents of Kedar.
Too long my soul has had its dwelling
near one who hates peace.

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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.

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