From morning to evening are beaten down, Without any regarding, for ever they perish.
and they have been beaten down, nation by nation, and city by city, for God hath troubled them with every adversity;
A son of thirty and two `years' was he in his reigning, and eight years he hath reigned in Jerusalem, and he goeth without desire, and they bury him in the city of David, and not in the graves of the kings.
If a man dieth -- doth he revive? All days of my warfare I wait, till my change come.
As a flower he hath gone forth, and is cut off, And he fleeth as a shadow and standeth not.
Thou prevailest `over' him for ever, and he goeth, He is changing his countenance, And Thou sendest him away.
When a few years do come, Then a path I return not do I go.
His memorial hath perished from the land, And he hath no name on the street.
As his own dung for ever he doth perish, His beholders say: `Where `is' he?'
And he passeth away, and lo, he is not, And I seek him, and he is not found!
Look from me, and I brighten up before I go and am not!
When the wicked flourish as a herb, And blossom do all workers of iniquity -- For their being destroyed for ever and ever!
The remembrance of the righteous `is' for a blessing, And the name of the wicked doth rot.