Job.
Chapter 21.
But Job answered and said: 
Hear attentively my words, And let this be your consolation. 
Bear with me, that I may speak; And after I have spoken, mock on! 
Is my complaint concerning man? Why then should I not be angry? 
Look upon me, and be astonished, And lay your hand upon your mouth! 
When I think of it, I am confounded; Trembling taketh hold of my flesh. 
Why is it that the wicked live, Grow old, yea, become mighty in substance? 
Their children are established in their sight with them, And their offspring before their eyes. 
Their houses are in peace, without fear, And the rod of God cometh not upon them. 
Their bull gendereth, and faileth not; Their cow calveth, and casteth not her calf. 
They send forth their little ones like a flock, And their children dance. 
They sing to the timbrel and harp, And rejoice at the sound of the pipe. 
They spend their days in prosperity, And in a moment go down to the under-world. 
And yet they say unto God, “Depart from us! We desire not the knowledge of thy ways! 
Who is the Almighty, that we should serve him? And what will it profit us, if we pray to him?” 
Ye say, “Lo! their prosperity is not secure in their hands! Far from me be the conduct of the wicked!” 
How often is it, that the lamp of the wicked is put out? And that destruction cometh upon them, And that He dispenseth to them tribulations in his anger? 
How often are they as stubble before the wind, Or as chaff, which the whirlwind carrieth away? 
“But” say ye “God layeth up his iniquity for his children.” Let him requite the offender, and let him feel it! 
Let his own eyes see his destruction, And let him drink of the wrath of the Almighty! 
For what concern hath he for his household after him, When the number of his own months is completed? 
Who then shall impart knowledge to God,—To him that judgeth the highest? 
One dieth in the fulness of his prosperity, Being wholly at ease and quiet; 
His sides are full of fat, And his bones moist with marrow. 
Another dieth in bitterness of soul, And hath not tasted pleasure. 
Alike they lie down in the dust, And the worms cover them. 
Behold, I know your thoughts, And the devices by which ye wrong me. 
For ye say, “Where is the house of the oppressor, And where the dwelling-places of the wicked?” 
Have ye never inquired of travellers, And do ye not know their tokens, 
That the wicked is spared in the day of destruction, And that he is borne to his grave in the day of wrath? 
Who will charge him with his conduct to his face, And who will requite him for the evil he hath done? 
Even this man is borne with honor to the grave; Yea, he watcheth over his tomb. 
Sweet to him are the sods of the valley: And all men move after him, As multitudes without number before him. 
Why then do ye offer your vain consolations? Your answers continue false. 
