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Exact Match


“They all come for violence;
Their horde of faces moves [eagerly] forward,
They gather prisoners like sand.


I heard and my whole inner self trembled;
My lips quivered at the sound.
Decay and rottenness enter my bones,
And I tremble in my place.
Because I must wait quietly for the day of distress,
For the people to arise who will invade and attack us.