O my threshing, and the grain of my floor! That which I have heard from Jehovah of Hosts, the God of Israel, I have declared to you.

For the black cumin is not threshed with a threshing instrument, nor is a cart wheel turned on cumin; but the black cumin is beaten out with a stick and the cumin with a rod.

You marched through the land in indignation. You threshed the nations in anger.

Then I beat them fine as the dust before the wind; I cast them out like the dirt in the streets.

Rise up and thresh, O daughter of Zion, for I will make your horn iron, and I will make your hooves bronze, and you shall crush many peoples. And I will consecrate their gain to Jehovah, and their wealth to the Lord of the whole earth.

Who are you, O great mountain? Before Zerubbabel you shall become a plain. And he shall bring forth the capstone with shouts: Grace! Grace to it!

For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty through God for pulling down strongholds,

casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity unto the obedience of Christ,