You, Judah, your brothers will praise you:Your fingers on your enemies’ throat,while your brothers honor you.You’re a lion’s cub, Judah,home fresh from the kill, my son.Look at him, crouched like a lion, king of beasts;who dares mess with him?The scepter shall not leave Judah;he’ll keep a firm grip on the command staffUntil the ultimate ruler comesand the nations obey him.He’ll tie up his donkey to the grapevine,his purebred prize to a sturdy branch.He will wash his shirt in wineand his cloak in the blood of grapes,His eyes will be darker than wine,his teeth whiter than milk.