איוב כא

Job said in reply:

Listen well to what I say,
And let that be your consolation.

Bear with me while I speak,
And after I have spoken, you may mock.

Is my complaint directed toward a human?
Why should I not lose my patience?

Look at me and be appalled,
And clap your hand to your mouth.

When I think of it I am terrified;
My body is seized with shuddering.

Why do the wicked live on,
Prosper and grow wealthy?

Their children are with them always,
And they see their children’s children.

Their homes are secure, without fear;
They do not feel the rod of God.

Their bull breeds and does not fail;
Their cow calves and never miscarries;

They let their infants run loose like sheep,
And their children skip about.

They sing to the music of hand-drum and lute,
And revel to the tune of the pipe;

They spend their days in happiness,
And go down to Sheol in peace.

They say to God, “Leave us alone,
We do not want to learn Your ways;

What is Shaddai that we should render service?
What will we gain by offering prayer?”

Their happiness is not their own doing.
(The thoughts of the wicked are beyond me!)

How seldom does the lamp of the wicked fail,
Does the calamity they deserve befall them,
Are their lots apportioned in anger!

Let them become like straw in the wind,
Like chaff carried off by a storm.

[You say,] “God is reserving his punishment for his children”;
Let it be paid back to him that he may feel it,

Let his eyes see his ruin,
And let him drink the wrath of Shaddai!

For what does he care about the fate of his family,
When his number of months runs out?

Can God be instructed in knowledge,
The One who judges from such heights?

This one dies in robust health,
All tranquil and untroubled,

With the pails full of milk,
The bones’ marrow juicy.

While that one dies embittered,
Never having tasted happiness.

They both lie in the dust
And are covered with worms.

Oh, I know your thoughts,
And the tactics you will devise against me.

You will say, “Where is the house of the noble—
And where the tent in which the wicked dwelled?”

You must have consulted the wayfarers;
You cannot deny their evidence.

For the evildoer is spared on the day of calamity,
On the day when wrath is led forth.

Who will upbraid him to his face?
Who will requite him for what he has done?

He is brought to the grave,
While a watch is kept at his tomb.

The clods of the wadi are sweet to him,
Everyone follows behind him,
Innumerable are those who precede him.

Why then do you offer me empty consolation?
Of your replies only the perfidy remains.