“Listen carefully to my words; let this be the consolation you give me.
Bear with me while I speak, and after I have spoken, mock on.
“Is my complaint directed to a human being? Why should I not be impatient?
Look at me and be appalled; clap your hand over your mouth.
When I think about this, I am terrified; trembling seizes my body.
Why do the wicked live on, growing old and increasing in power?
They see their children established around them, their offspring before their eyes.
Their homes are safe and free from fear; the rod of God is not on them.
Their bulls never fail to breed; their cows calve and do not miscarry.
They send forth their children as a flock; their little ones dance about.
They sing to the music of timbrel and lyre; they make merry to the sound of the pipe.