Job 18
1 Then Bildad the Shuhite replied:
And Bildad the Shuhite answereth and saith: —
2 “How long until you end these speeches? Show some sense, and then we can talk.
When do ye set an end to words? Consider ye, and afterwards do we speak.
3 Why are we regarded as cattle, as stupid in your sight?
Wherefore have we been reckoned as cattle? We have been defiled in your eyes!
4 You who tear yourself in anger— should the earth be forsaken on your account, or the rocks be moved from their place?
(He is tearing himself in his anger.) For thy sake is earth forsaken? And removed is a rock from its place?
5 Indeed, the lamp of the wicked is extinguished; the flame of his fire does not glow.
Also, the light of the wicked is extinguished. And there doth not shine a spark of his fire.
6 The light in his tent grows dark, and the lamp beside him goes out.
The light hath been dark in his tent, And his lamp over him is extinguished.
7 His vigorous stride is shortened, and his own schemes trip him up.
Straitened are the steps of his strength, And cast him down doth his own counsel.
8 For his own feet lead him into a net, and he wanders into its mesh.
For he is sent into a net by his own feet, And on a snare he doth walk habitually.
9 A trap seizes his heel; a snare grips him.
Seize on the heel doth a gin, Prevail over him do the designing.
10 A noose is hidden in the ground, and a trap lies in his path.
Hidden in the earth is his cord, And his trap on the path.
11 Terrors frighten him on every side and harass his every step.
Round about terrified him have terrors, And they have scattered him — at his feet.
12 His strength is depleted, and calamity is ready at his side.
Hungry is his sorrow, And calamity is ready at his side.
13 It devours patches of his skin; the firstborn of death devours his limbs.
It consumeth the parts of his skin, Consume his parts doth death's first-born.
14 He is torn from the shelter of his tent and is marched off to the king of terrors.
Drawn from his tent is his confidence, And it causeth him to step to the king of terrors.
15 Fire resides in his tent; burning sulfur rains down on his dwelling.
It dwelleth in his tent — out of his provender, Scattered over his habitation is sulphur.
16 The roots beneath him dry up, and the branches above him wither away.
From beneath his roots are dried up, And from above cut off is his crop.
17 The memory of him perishes from the earth, and he has no name in the land.
His memorial hath perished from the land, And he hath no name on the street.
18 He is driven from light into darkness and is chased from the inhabited world.
They thrust him from light unto darkness, And from the habitable earth cast him out.
19 He has no offspring or posterity among his people, no survivor where he once lived.
He hath no continuator, Nor successor among his people, And none is remaining in his dwellings.
20 Those in the west are appalled at his fate, while those in the east tremble in horror.
At this day westerns have been astonished And easterns have taken fright.
21 Surely such is the dwelling of the wicked and the place of one who does not know God.”
Only these [are] tabernacles of the perverse, And this the place God hath not known.
