CHAPTER 18
1And Bildad the Shuhite spoke up and he said:
2How long till you both put an end to words?
Consider, and then we may speak.
3Why are we reckoned as beasts,
besotted in your eyes?
4 Who tears himself apart in his wrath—
for you shall the earth be forsaken
and the rock ripped from its place?
5Yes, the light of the wicked will gutter,
and the spark of his flame will not shine.
6Light goes dark in his tent,
and his lamp gutters before him.
7His vigorous strides are straitened,
his own counsel flings him down.
8 For his feet are caught in a net
and he treads on a tangle of lines.
9The trap grips his heel,
the trip cord seizes him.
10A rope is hidden for him in the ground,
his snare upon the path.
11All round terrors befright him,
12 His vigor turns to hunger,
disaster ready at his side.
13Eating his limbs and skin,
Death’s Firstborn eats his limbs,
14tears him from his tent, his stronghold,
and sends him off to the King of Terrors.
15 He dwells in a tent not his,
his abode is strewn with brimstone.
16Below, his roots dry up,
and above, his foliage withers.
17His remembrance is lost from the earth,
no name has he abroad.
18 They thrust him from light to darkness,
and from the world of men drive him out.
19 No son nor grandson in his kinfolk,
and no remnant where he sojourned.
20At his fate, latecomers are dumbstruck
and old-timers are seized with dread.
21 Surely these are the dwellings of evil,
and this the place of him who knew not God.