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Job 24:18 - English Standard Version 2016

18 “You say, ‘Swift are they on the face of the waters; their portion is cursed in the land; no treader turns toward their vineyards.

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অধিক সংস্কৰণ

King James Version (Oxford) 1769

18 He is swift as the waters; Their portion is cursed in the earth: He beholdeth not the way of the vineyards.

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Amplified Bible - Classic Edition

18 [You say] Swiftly such men pass away on the face of the waters; their portion is cursed in the earth; [no treader] turns into their vineyards.

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American Standard Version (1901)

18 Swiftly they pass away upon the face of the waters; Their portion is cursed in the earth: They turn not into the way of the vineyards.

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Common English Bible

18 They are scum on the water’s surface; their portion of the land is cursed; no one walks down a path in the vineyards.

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Catholic Public Domain Version

18 He is nimble on the surface of water. His place on land is to be accursed. May he not walk by way of the vineyards.

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Job 24:18
14 পৰস্পৰ সংযোগসমূহ  

If you will not listen, if you will not take it to heart to give honor to my name, says the Lord of hosts, then I will send the curse upon you and I will curse your blessings. Indeed, I have already cursed them, because you do not lay it to heart.


Cross over your land like the Nile, O daughter of Tarshish; there is no restraint anymore.


The Lord’s curse is on the house of the wicked, but he blesses the dwelling of the righteous.


Let their own table before them become a snare; and when they are at peace, let it become a trap.


Let them vanish like water that runs away; when he aims his arrows, let them be blunted.


They were snatched away before their time; their foundation was washed away.


They go by like skiffs of reed, like an eagle swooping on the prey.


I have seen the fool taking root, but suddenly I cursed his dwelling.


or darkness, so that you cannot see, and a flood of water covers you.


They gather their fodder in the field, and they glean the vineyard of the wicked man.


among the olive rows of the wicked they make oil; they tread the winepresses, but suffer thirst.


Terrors overtake him like a flood; in the night a whirlwind carries him off.


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