But I would strengthen you with my words; comfort from my lips would bring you relief.

The wild animals go to their lairs, and in their dens they remain.

I summon my servant, but he does not respond, even though I implore him with my own mouth.

I also could speak like you, if you were in my place; I could pile up words against you and I could shake my head at you.

For look, the wicked prepare their bows, they put their arrows on the strings, to shoot in the darkness at the morally upright.

When you pass through the waters, I am with you; when you pass through the streams, they will not overwhelm you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not harm you.

Half of it he burns in the fire – over that half he cooks meat; he roasts a meal and fills himself. Yes, he warms himself and says, ‘Ah! I am warm as I look at the fire.’

No one thinks to himself, nor do they comprehend or understand and say to themselves: ‘I burned half of it in the fire – yes, I baked bread over the coals; I roasted meat and ate it. With the rest of it should I make a disgusting idol? Should I bow down to dry wood?’