Call out,

                Who is there to answer you?

For to Whom,

                Rather than the Holy One,

                                Can you turn to?

 

Surely,

                Anger kills the fool,

                                Impatience slays the simpleton.

I have seen a fool striking root,

                At once his abode was accursed.

His children are far from success,

                They are crushed at the judgement gate,

                                With no one to deliver them.

His harvest, the hungry will devour,

                His substance, the starving will carry away,

                                The famished will drag off his wealth.

 

For evil does not come from dust,

                Nor wretchedness sprout from the soil.

Yet men give birth to evil,

                As surely as sparks dart upward.

 

If it were me,

                I would appeal to God.

And to my Lord,

                I would make my case.

 

Who performs wonders beyond man’s grasp,

                Miracles beyond numbering.

Who bestows rain on the earth,

                Sends water upon the fields.

Who sets the humble on high,

                Rescues the afflicted.

Who thwarts the devices of the crafty,

                So that their hands achieve no success.

Who entraps the crafty in their own cunning,

                The schemes of the perverse go awry quickly.

 

By day they encounter darkness,

                At noon they grope as if night.

But from their sharp tongue and heavy hand,

                He saves the needy.

So that the indigent have hope,

The mouth of iniquity is shut.

 

Behold, happy is the man who God reproves,

                Hence do not despise the chastisement of the Almighty.

For He causes pain,

                But He binds up.

He strikes,

                But His hands heal.

 

From six troubles,

                He will save you.

In seven,

                No harm shall befall you.

In famine,

                He redeems you from death.

In war,

                From the power of the sword.

You will be hidden from tongues of fire,

                You need not fear the onrushing flood.

At the ravage of drought you will laugh.

You shall not fear the beasts of the earth.

You shall have a covenant with the stones of the field,

                The wild animals will be at peace with you.

 

You shall know that your tent is at peace,

                You will inspect your home and find nothing amiss.

You shall know your seed is great,

                Your offspring like the grass of the earth.

You will come to your grave in ripe old age,

                As grain stocks are gathered in high season.

 

Behold, this we have studied, it is true.

                Hear it, and you – you know it.