But the wicked are like the tossing sea,
For it cannot be quiet,
And its waters toss up refuse and mud.

‘Do you not fear Me?’ declares the Lord.
‘Do you not tremble in My presence?
For I have placed the sand as a boundary for the sea,
An eternal decree, so it cannot cross over it.
Though the waves toss, yet they cannot prevail;
Though they roar, yet they cannot cross over it.

“When I lie down I say,
‘When shall I arise?’
But the night continues,
And I am continually tossing until dawn.

“God hands me over to ruffians
And tosses me into the hands of the wicked.

“Because of this will not the land quake
And everyone who dwells in it mourn?
Indeed, all of it will rise up like the Nile,
And it will be tossed about
And subside like the Nile of Egypt.

“O afflicted one, storm-tossed, and not comforted,
Behold, I will set your stones in antimony,
And your foundations I will lay in sapphires.