Wake up, you drunkards, and weep! Wail, all you drinkers of wine, because of the sweet wine; for it is cut off from your mouth.

They run like mighty men. They climb the wall like warriors. They each march in his line, and they don't swerve off course.

Beat your plowshares into swords, and your pruning hooks into spears. Let the weak say, 'I am strong.'