But the wicked are like the storm-tossed sea, for it cannot be still, and its waters churn up mire and muck.

惟独恶人，好像翻腾的海，不得平静；其中的水常涌出污秽和淤泥来。

但是恶人好像翻腾的海，不得平静；其中的水常涌出污秽和淤泥。

但是恶人好像翻腾的海，不得平静；其中的水常涌出污秽和淤泥。

然而，恶人就像波涛汹涌、难以平静的大海，海浪中涌出淤泥和污物。”

恶人却像翻腾的海，不能平静，海中的水不住翻起污秽和淤泥来。

恶人却像翻涌的海——不能平静，其中的水翻涌出泥浆和淤泥。

惟獨惡人，好像翻騰的海，不得平靜；其中的水常湧出污穢和淤泥來。

但是惡人好像翻騰的海，不得平靜；其中的水常湧出污穢和淤泥。

但是惡人好像翻騰的海，不得平靜；其中的水常湧出污穢和淤泥。

然而，惡人就像波濤洶湧、難以平靜的大海，海浪中湧出淤泥和汙物。」

惡人卻像翻騰的海，不能平靜，海中的水不住翻起污穢和淤泥來。

惟獨惡人、好像翻騰的海；因不能平靜，其水就翻騰出髒泡沬和淤泥來。

惡人卻像翻湧的海——不能平靜，其中的水翻湧出泥漿和淤泥。

惟彼惡人、若洶湧之海、不能恬靜、厥水擁出泥穢、

惟彼作惡之徒、若波濤激濁、翻騰莫遏、

惟彼惡人、若激盪之海、永不恬靜、其水湧出泥與沫、

But the wicked are like the tossing sea, which cannot rest, whose waves cast up mire and mud.

But those who are evil are like the rolling sea. It never rests. Its waves toss up mud and sand.

But the wicked are like the tossing sea; for it cannot be quiet, and its waters toss up mire and dirt.

“ But those who still reject me are like the restless sea, which is never still but continually churns up mud and dirt.

But the wicked are like the storm-tossed sea, for it cannot be still, and its water churns up mire and muck.

But the wicked are like the tossing sea, For it cannot be quiet, And its waters toss up refuse and mud.

But the wicked are like the troubled sea, When it cannot rest, Whose waters cast up mire and dirt.

But the wicked are like the troubled sea; for it cannot rest, and its waters cast up mire and dirt.

But the wicked[ are] like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt.

But the wicked are like a surging sea that is unable to be quiet; its waves toss up mud and sand.

But the wicked are like the troubled sea; for it can’t rest and its waters cast up mire and mud.

Woe to the wicked— it will go badly for them, for what they have done will be done to them.

Yes, the light of the wicked is extinguished; the flame of his fire does not glow.The light in his tent grows dark, and the lamp beside him is put out.His powerful stride is shortened, and his own schemes trip him up.For his own feet lead him into a net, and he strays into its mesh.A trap catches him by the heel; a noose seizes him.A rope lies hidden for him on the ground, and a snare waits for him along the path.Terrors frighten him on every side and harass him at every step.His strength is depleted; disaster lies ready for him to stumble.Parts of his skin are eaten away; death’s firstborn consumes his limbs.He is ripped from the security of his tent and marched away to the king of terrors.

For they can’t sleep unless they have done what is evil; they are robbed of sleep unless they make someone stumble.They eat the bread of wickedness and drink the wine of violence.

His bones may be full of youthful vigor, but will lie down with him in the grave.Though evil tastes sweet in his mouth and he conceals it under his tongue,though he cherishes it and will not let it go but keeps it in his mouth,yet the food in his stomach turns into cobras’ venom inside him.He swallows wealth but must vomit it up; God will force it from his stomach.He will suck the poison of cobras; a viper’s fangs will kill him.He will not enjoy the streams, the rivers flowing with honey and cream.He must return the fruit of his labor without consuming it; he doesn’t enjoy the profits from his trading.For he oppressed and abandoned the poor; he seized a house he did not build.Because his appetite is never satisfied, he does not let anything he desires escape.Nothing is left for him to consume; therefore, his prosperity will not last.At the height of his success distress will come to him; the full weight of misery will crush him.When he fills his stomach, God will send His burning anger against him, raining it down on him while he is eating.If he flees from an iron weapon, an arrow from a bronze bow will pierce him.He pulls it out of his back, the flashing tip out of his liver. Terrors come over him.Total darkness is reserved for his treasures. A fire unfanned by human hands will consume him; it will feed on what is left in his tent.The heavens will expose his iniquity, and the earth will rise up against him.The possessions in his house will be removed, flowing away on the day of God’s anger.This is the wicked man’s lot from God, the inheritance God ordained for him.

Indeed, You put them in slippery places; You make them fall into ruin.How suddenly they become a desolation! They come to an end, swept away by terrors.Like one waking from a dream, Lord, when arising, You will despise their image.

A wicked man writhes in pain all his days; only a few years are reserved for the ruthless.Dreadful sounds fill his ears; when he is at peace, a robber attacks him.He doesn’t believe he will return from darkness; he is destined for the sword.He wanders about for food, saying,“ Where is it?” He knows the day of darkness is at hand.Trouble and distress terrify him, overwhelming him like a king prepared for battle.

These are the ones who are like dangerous reefs at your love feasts. They feast with you, nurturing only themselves without fear. They are waterless clouds carried along by winds; trees in late autumn— fruitless, twice dead, pulled out by the roots;