25 When it raises itself up, the mighty fear,
Because of the crashing they are bewildered.
26 The sword that reaches it cannot avail,
Nor the spear, the dart, or the javelin.
27 It regards iron as straw,
Bronze as rotten wood.
28 The arrow cannot make it flee;
Slingstones are turned into stubble for it.
29 Clubs are regarded as stubble;
It laughs at the rattling of the javelin.
30 Its underparts are like sharp potsherds;
It spreads out like a threshing sledge on the mire.