“So, prophesy, son of man!
Clap your hands. Get their attention.
Tell them that the sword’s coming down
once, twice, three times.
It’s a sword to kill,
a sword for a massacre,
A sword relentless,
a sword inescapable—
People collapsing right and left,
going down like dominoes.
I’ve stationed a murderous sword
at every gate in the city,
Flashing like lightning,
Cut to the right, thrust to the left,
murderous, sharp-edged sword!
Then I’ll clap my hands,
a signal that my anger is spent.
I, GOD, have spoken.”