Zophar: Triumph of the Wicked Short-lived 1And Zophar the Naamathite answereth and saith: -- 2Therefore my thoughts cause me to answer, And because of my sensations in me. 3The chastisement of my shame I hear, And the spirit of mine understanding Doth cause me to answer: 4This hast thou known from antiquity? Since the placing of man on earth? 5That the singing of the wicked is short, And the joy of the profane for a moment, 6Though his excellency go up to the heavens, And his head against a cloud he strike -- 7As his own dung for ever he doth perish, His beholders say: 'Where is he?' 8As a dream he fleeth, and they find him not, And he is driven away as a vision of the night, 9The eye hath not seen him, and addeth not. And not again doth his place behold him. 10His sons do the poor oppress, And his hands give back his wealth. 11His bones have been full of his youth, And with him on the dust it lieth down. 12Though he doth sweeten evil in his mouth, Doth hide it under his tongue, 13Hath pity on it, and doth not forsake it, And keep it back in the midst of his palate, 14His food in his bowels is turned, The bitterness of asps is in his heart. 15Wealth he hath swallowed, and doth vomit it. From his belly God driveth it out. 16Gall of asps he sucketh, Slay him doth the tongue of a viper. 17He looketh not on rivulets, Flowing of brooks of honey and butter. 18He is giving back what he laboured for, And doth not consume it; As a bulwark is his exchange, and he exults not. 19For he oppressed -- he forsook the poor, A house he hath taken violently away, And he doth not build it. 20For he hath not known ease in his belly. With his desirable thing he delivereth not himself. 21There is not a remnant to his food, Therefore his good doth not stay. 22In the fulness of his sufficiency he is straitened. Every perverse hand doth meet him. 23It cometh to pass, at the filling of his belly, He sendeth forth against him The fierceness of His anger, Yea, He raineth on him in his eating. 24He fleeth from an iron weapon, Pass through him doth a bow of brass. 25One hath drawn, And it cometh out from the body, And a glittering weapon from his gall proceedeth. On him are terrors. 26All darkness is hid for his treasures, Consume him doth a fire not blown, Broken is the remnant in his tent. 27Reveal do the heavens his iniquity, And earth is raising itself against him. 28Remove doth the increase of his house, Poured forth in a day of His anger. 29This is the portion of a wicked man from God. And an inheritance appointed him by God. |