Behold, as wild donkeys in the desert, they go out to their work, seeking diligently for food. The wilderness yields them bread for their children.
From out of the populous city, men groan. The soul of the wounded cries out, yet God doesn’t regard the folly.
The eye also of the adulterer waits for the twilight, saying, ‘No eye will see me.’ He disguises his face.
In the dark they dig through houses. They shut themselves up in the daytime. They don’t know the light.
For the morning is to all of them like thick darkness, for they know the terrors of the thick darkness.
“They are foam on the surface of the waters. Their portion is cursed in the earth. They don’t turn into the way of the vineyards.
The womb will forget him. The worm will feed sweetly on him. He will be no more remembered. Unrighteousness will be broken as a tree.
They are exalted; yet a little while, and they are gone. Yes, they are brought low, they are taken out of the way as all others, and are cut off as the tops of the ears of grain.