^7-8 God rules: he brings this one down to his knees,
    pulls that one up on her feet.
God has a cup in his hand,
    a bowl of wine, full to the brim.
He draws from it and pours;
    it’s drained to the dregs.
Earth’s wicked ones drink it all,
    drink it down to the last bitter drop!

^9-10 And I’m telling the story of God Eternal,
    singing the praises of Jacob’s God.
The fists of the wicked
    are bloody stumps,
The arms of the righteous
    are lofty green branches.