25. When he raises himself up the mighty are afraid;at the crashing they are beside themselves.
26. Though the sword reaches him, it does not avail,nor the spear, the dart, or the javelin.
27. He counts iron as straw,and bronze as rotten wood.
28. The arrow cannot make him flee;for him sling stones are turned to stubble.
29. Clubs are counted as stubble;he laughs at the rattle of javelins.
30. His underparts are like sharp potsherds;he spreads himself like a threshing sledge on the mire.
31. He makes the deep boil like a pot;he makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
32. Behind him he leaves a shining wake;one would think the deep to be white-haired.