س ُنَّ للِذَّبحِ، وَصُقِلَ حَتَّى صارَ يَلمَعُ كَالبَرقِ. يا بُنَيَّ، لَقَدْ هَرَبْتَ مِنْ عَصا عِقابِي، رَفَضْتَ العِقابَ بِتِلكَ العَصا الخَشَبِيَّةِ!
It is sharpened that it may make a slaughter, polished that it may flash and glitter like lightning! Shall we then rejoice and make mirth ? But the rod or scepter of My son rejects and views with contempt every tree!
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