“So, prophesy, son of man!Clap your hands. Get their attention.Tell them that the sword’s coming downonce, 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 swordat every gate in the city,Flashing like lightning,brandished murderously.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.”