"The wine press I have trodden alone, and of my people there was no one with me. I trod them in my anger, and trampled them down in my wrath; Their blood spurted on my garments; all my apparel I stained. For the day of vengeance was in my heart, my year for redeeming was at hand. I looked about, but there was no one to help, I was appalled that there was no one to lend support; So my own arm brought about the victory and my own wrath lent me its support. I trampled down the peoples in my anger, I crushed them in my wrath, and I let their blood run out upon the ground.".