And Zophar the Naamathite answereth and saith: --

Therefore my thoughts cause me to answer, And because of my sensations in me.

The chastisement of my shame I hear, And the spirit of mine understanding Doth cause me to answer:

This hast thou known 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 excellency go up to the heavens, And his head against a cloud he strike --

As his own dung for ever he doth perish, His beholders say: `Where `is' he?'

As a dream he fleeth, and they find him not, And he is driven away as a vision of the night,

The eye hath not seen him, and addeth not. And not again doth his place behold him.

His sons do the poor oppress, And his hands give back his wealth.

His bones have been full of his youth, And with him on the dust it lieth down.

Though he doth sweeten evil in his mouth, Doth hide it under his tongue,

Hath pity on it, and doth not forsake it, And keep it back in the midst of his palate,

His food in his bowels is turned, The bitterness of asps `is' in his heart.

Wealth he hath swallowed, and doth vomit it. From his belly God driveth it out.

Gall of asps he sucketh, Slay him doth the tongue of a viper.

He looketh not on rivulets, Flowing of brooks of honey and butter.

He is giving back `what' he laboured for, And doth not consume `it'; As a bulwark `is' his exchange, and he exults not.

For he oppressed -- he forsook the poor, A house he hath taken violently away, And he doth not build it.

For he hath not known ease in his belly. With his desirable thing he delivereth not himself.

There is not a remnant to his food, Therefore his good doth not stay.

In the fulness of his sufficiency he is straitened. Every perverse hand doth meet him.

It 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.

He fleeth from an iron weapon, Pass through him doth a bow of brass.

One hath drawn, And it cometh out from the body, And a glittering weapon from his gall proceedeth. On him `are' terrors.

All darkness is hid for his treasures, Consume him doth a fire not blown, Broken is the remnant in his tent.

Reveal do the heavens his iniquity, And earth is raising itself against him.

Remove doth the increase of his house, 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.