⁴ Are my complaints against another human;
    why is my patience short?
⁵ Turn to me and be appalled;
    lay your hand over your mouth.
⁶ If I recall it, I’m scared;
    shaking seizes my body.

⁷ Why do the wicked live,
    grow old, and even become strong?
⁸ Their children are always with them,
    their offspring in their sight,
⁹     their houses safe from dread,
    God’s punishing stick not upon them.
¹⁰ Their bull always breeds successfully;
    their cows give birth and never miscarry.
¹¹ They send forth their little ones like sheep;
    their infants bounce around.
¹² They raise drum and lyre,
    rejoice at the sound of a flute.
¹³ They spend their days contentedly,
    go down to the grave^[a] peacefully.
¹⁴ They say to God, “Turn away from us;
    we take no pleasure in knowing your ways;
¹⁵     who is the Almighty^[b] that we should serve him,
        and what can we gain if we meet him?”
¹⁶ Look, isn’t their well-being the work of their own hands?
    A sinner’s logic is beyond me.

¹⁷ How often does the lamp of the wicked flicker
    or disaster come upon them,
    with its fury inflicting pain on them?
¹⁸ Let them be like straw in the wind,
    like dry grass stolen by a storm.