Job.
Chapter 20.
And Zophar the Naamathite answers and says: 
“Therefore my thoughts cause me to answer, || And because of my sensations in me. 
I hear the discipline of my shame, || And the spirit of my understanding causes me to answer: 
Have you known this from antiquity? Since the placing of man on earth? 
That the singing of the wicked is short, || And the joy of the profane for a moment, 
Though his excellence goes up to the heavens, || He strikes his head against a cloud— 
He perishes as his own dung forever, || His beholders say, Where is he? 
He flees as a dream, and they do not find him, || And he is driven away as a vision of the night, 
The eye has not seen him, and does not add. And his place does not behold him again. 
His sons oppress the poor, || And his hands give back his wealth. 
His bones have been full of his youth, and it lies down with him on the dust. 
Though he sweetens evil in his mouth, hides it under his tongue, 
has pity on it, and does not forsake it, and keeps it back in the midst of his palate, 
his food is turned in his bowels, the bitterness of cobras is in his heart. 
He has swallowed wealth, and vomits it. God drives it out from his belly. 
He sucks the gall of cobras, the tongue of a viper slays him. 
He does not look on streams, || Flowing of brooks of honey and butter. 
He is giving back what he labored for, and does not consume it; As a bulwark is his exchange, and he does not exult. 
For he oppressed—he forsook the poor, || He has taken a house away violently, || And he does not build it. 
For he has not known ease in his belly. With his desirable thing he does not deliver himself. 
There is not a remnant to his food, || Therefore his good does not stay. 
In the fullness of his sufficiency he is constricted. Every perverse hand meets him. 
It comes to pass, at the filling of his belly, || He sends forth against him || The fierceness of His anger, || Indeed, He rains on him in his eating. 
He flees from an iron weapon, || A bow of bronze passes through him. 
One has drawn, || And it comes out from the body, || And a glittering weapon proceeds from his gall. Terrors are on him. 
All darkness is hid for his treasures, || A fire not blown consumes him, || The remnant is broken in his tent. 
The heavens reveal his iniquity, || And earth is raising itself against him. 
The increase of his house is removed, || Poured forth in a day of His anger. 
This is the portion of a wicked man from God. And an inheritance appointed him by God.” 
