Job , CHAPTER 18
Then Bildad the Shuhite answered and said:
When will you put an end to words? Reflect, and then we can have discussion.
Why are we accounted like beasts, equal to them in your sight?
You who tear yourself in your anger? shall the earth be neglected on your account or the rock be moved out of its place?
Truly, the light of the wicked is extinguished; the flame of his fire casts no light.
In his tent light is darkness; the lamp above him goes out.
His vigorous steps are hemmed in, his own counsel casts him down.
A net catches him by the feet, he wanders into a pitfall.
A trap seizes him by the heel, a snare lays hold of him.
A noose is hidden for him on the ground, a netting for him on the path.
On every side terrors frighten him; they harry him at each step.
His strength is famished, disaster is ready at his side,
His skin is eaten to the limbs, the firstborn of Death eats his limbs.
He is plucked from the security of his tent; and marched off to the king of terrors.
Fire lodges in his tent, over his abode brimstone is scattered.
Below, his roots dry up, and above, his branches wither.
His memory perishes from the earth, and he has no name in the countryside.
He is driven from light into darkness, and banished from the world.
He has neither offshoot nor offspring among his people, no survivor where once he dwelt.
Those who come after shall be appalled at his fate; those who went before are seized with horror.
So is it then with the dwelling of the impious; such is the place of the one who does not know God!