A tempest blows out from its chamber, icy cold from the driving winds.

But now the same thing comes to you, and you are discouraged; it strikes you, and you are terrified.

You will come to your grave in a full age, As stacks of grain are harvested in their season.

“Oh that my request would be realized, and that God would grant me what I long for!

Does God listen to his cry when distress overtakes him?

“But wisdom – where does it come from? Where is the place of understanding?

when I said, ‘To here you may come and no farther, here your proud waves will be confined’?