He hath no continuator, Nor successor among his people, And none is remaining in his dwellings.

At this day westerns have been astonished And easterns have taken fright.

Only these are tabernacles of the perverse, And this the place God hath not known.

It consumeth the parts of his skin, Consume his parts doth death's first-born.

And Bildad the Shuhite answereth and saith: --

When do ye set an end to words? Consider ye, and afterwards do we speak.

Also, the light of the wicked is extinguished. And there doth not shine a spark of his fire.

Drawn from his tent is his confidence, And it causeth him to step to the king of terrors.

(He is tearing himself in his anger.) For thy sake is earth forsaken? And removed is a rock from its place?

Round about terrified him have terrors, And they have scattered him -- at his feet.

They thrust him from light unto darkness, And from the habitable earth cast him out.

Straitened are the steps of his strength, And cast him down doth his own counsel.

It dwelleth in his tent -- out of his provender, Scattered over his habitation is sulphur.

The light hath been dark in his tent, And his lamp over him is extinguished.

For he is sent into a net by his own feet, And on a snare he doth walk habitually.

Seize on the heel doth a gin, Prevail over him do the designing.

Wherefore have we been reckoned as cattle? We have been defiled in your eyes!

From beneath his roots are dried up, And from above cut off is his crop.

Hidden in the earth is his cord, And his trap on the path.

His memorial hath perished from the land, And he hath no name on the street.

Hungry is his sorrow, And calamity is ready at his side.