24 His heart is solid like a rock,hard like a lower millstone.
25 The divine beings dread his rising;they withdraw before his thrashing.
26 The sword that touches him won’t prevail;neither will the dart, spear, nor javelin.
27 He treats iron as straw,bronze as rotten wood.
28 Arrows can’t make him flee;slingstones he turns to straw.
29 He treats a club like straw;he laughs at the lance’s rattle.
30 His abdomen is like jagged pottery shards;its sharp edges leave a trail in the mud.