Why do the wicked live, grow old, and even become strong?
Their children are always with them, their offspring in their sight,
their houses safe from dread, God's punishing stick not upon them.
Their bull always breeds successfully; their cows give birth and never miscarry.
They send forth their little ones like sheep; their infants bounce around.
They raise drum and lyre, rejoice at the sound of a flute.
They spend their days contentedly, go down to the gravea peacefully.
They say to God, "Turn away from us; we take no pleasure in knowing your ways;
who is the Almightyb that we should serve him, and what can we gain if we meet him?"
Look, isn't their well-being the work of their own hands? A sinner's logic is beyond me.