Ps.58.7

Let them melt away as waters which run continually: when he bendeth his bow to shoot his arrows, let them be as cut in pieces.

Ps.58.7

Let their lives be buckets of water spilled, all that's left, a damp stain in the sand. Let them be trampled grass worn smooth by the traffic.

Ps.58.7

Let them vanish like water that flows away; when they draw the bow, let their arrows be blunted.

Ps.58.7

May they disappear like water into thirsty ground. Make their weapons useless in their hands.