And the living creatures ran and returned as the appearance of a flash of lightning.

It is sharpened that it may make a slaughter. It is polished that it may be as lightning. Shall we then make mirth? It scorns the scepter of my son, every tree.

I have set the threatening sword against all their gates, that their heart may melt, and their stumblings be multiplied. Ah! It is made as lightning. It is pointed for slaughter.