that the mirth of the wicked is brief, the joy of the godless lasts but a moment.
Though the pride of the godless person reaches to the heavens and his head touches the clouds,
he will perish forever, like his own dung; those who have seen him will say, ‘Where is he?’
Like a dream he flies away, no more to be found, banished like a vision of the night.
The eye that saw him will not see him again; his place will look on him no more.