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As for me, is my complaint to man?
    Why shouldn’t I be impatient?
Look at me, and be astonished.
    Lay your hand on your mouth.
When I remember, I am troubled.
    Horror takes hold of my flesh.

“Why do the wicked live,
    become old, yes, and grow mighty in power?
Their child is established with them in their sight,
    their offspring before their eyes.
Their houses are safe from fear,
    neither is the rod of God upon them.
10 Their bulls breed without fail.
    Their cows calve, and don’t miscarry.
11 They send out their little ones like a flock.
    Their children dance.
12 They sing to the tambourine and harp,
    and rejoice at the sound of the pipe.
13 They spend their days in prosperity.
    In an instant they go down to Sheol.[a]
14 They tell God, ‘Depart from us,
    for we don’t want to know about your ways.
15 What is the Almighty, that we should serve him?
    What profit should we have, if we pray to him?’
16 Behold, their prosperity is not in their hand.
    The counsel of the wicked is far from me.

17 “How often is it that the lamp of the wicked is put out,
    that their calamity comes on them,
    that God distributes sorrows in his anger?
18 How often is it that they are as stubble before the wind,
    as chaff that the storm carries away?

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Footnotes

  1. 21:13 Sheol is the place of the dead.