So the angel swung his sickle on the earth and gathered the clusters from the vine of the earth, and threw them into the great wine press of the wrath of God.

And the wine press was trodden outside the city, and blood flowed from the wine press, as high as the horses' bridles for a distance of one thousand six hundred stadia.

From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron; he treads the wine press of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty.