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

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 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 storm-tossed sea, for it cannot be still, and its waters churn up mire and muck.

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! Disaster is upon them! They will be paid back for what their hands have done.

“ The lamp of a wicked man is snuffed out; the flame of his fire stops burning.The light in his tent becomes dark; the lamp beside him goes out.The vigor of his step is weakened; his own schemes throw him down.His feet thrust him into a net; he wanders into its mesh.A trap seizes him by the heel; a snare holds him fast.A noose is hidden for him on the ground; a trap lies in his path.Terrors startle him on every side and dog his every step.Calamity is hungry for him; disaster is ready for him when he falls.It eats away parts of his skin; death’s firstborn devours his limbs.He is torn from the security of his tent and marched off to the king of terrors.

For they cannot rest until they do evil; they are robbed of sleep till they make someone stumble.They eat the bread of wickedness and drink the wine of violence.

The youthful vigor that fills his bones will lie with him in the dust.“ Though evil is sweet in his mouth and he hides it under his tongue,though he cannot bear to let it go and lets it linger in his mouth,yet his food will turn sour in his stomach; it will become the venom of serpents within him.He will spit out the riches he swallowed; God will make his stomach vomit them up.He will suck the poison of serpents; the fangs of an adder will kill him.He will not enjoy the streams, the rivers flowing with honey and cream.What he toiled for he must give back uneaten; he will not enjoy the profit from his trading.For he has oppressed the poor and left them destitute; he has seized houses he did not build.“ Surely he will have no respite from his craving; he cannot save himself by his treasure.Nothing is left for him to devour; his prosperity will not endure.In the midst of his plenty, distress will overtake him; the full force of misery will come upon him.When he has filled his belly, God will vent his burning anger against him and rain down his blows on him.Though he flees from an iron weapon, a bronze-tipped arrow pierces him.He pulls it out of his back, the gleaming point out of his liver. Terrors will come over him;total darkness lies in wait for his treasures. A fire unfanned will consume him and devour what is left in his tent.The heavens will expose his guilt; the earth will rise up against him.A flood will carry off his house, rushing waters on the day of God’s wrath.Such is the fate God allots the wicked, the heritage appointed for them by God.”

Surely you place them on slippery ground; you cast them down to ruin.How suddenly are they destroyed, completely swept away by terrors!They are like a dream when one awakes; when you arise, Lord, you will despise them as fantasies.

All his days the wicked man suffers torment, the ruthless man through all the years stored up for him.Terrifying sounds fill his ears; when all seems well, marauders attack him.He despairs of escaping the realm of darkness; he is marked for the sword.He wanders about for food like a vulture; he knows the day of darkness is at hand.Distress and anguish fill him with terror; troubles overwhelm him, like a king poised to attack,

These people are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm— shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted— twice dead.