Rotherham(i)
9 Son of man, Prophesy, and thou shalt say, Thus, saith My Lord,––Say, A sword! a sword! Sharpened, moreover also furbished:
10 To make a slaughter, is it sharpened, That it may flash as lightning, is it furbished. Or shall we flourish the royal rod of my son, which despiseth every tree?
11 It hath, however, been given to be furbished, that it may be grasped by the hand: The same, is a sword, sharpened, Yea, the same, is furbished, Ready to be given into the hand of the slayer.
12 Make an outcry and howl, son of man, For, the same, hath come against my people, The same, is against all the princes of Israel,––Who are, thrown to the sword, with my people, Therefore, smite thou upon thy thigh.
13 For trial hath been made, What then, even though the royal rod despiseth, shall it not be? Demandeth My Lord, Yahweh.
14 Thou, therefore, son of man, Prophesy, and smite thy hands together, And let the sword smite twice, thrice, the sword of the slain! The same, is the great sword of the slain, that which hemmeth them in.
15 That the heart, may melt, And the overthrow be multiplied, at all their gates, I have recompensed a slaying by the sword: Surely it hath been made ready to flash like lightning, keen for slaughter.
16 One firm stroke to the right, Turn to the left,––Whithersoever thine edge is directed,