15. Those who survive him the pestilence buries,and his widows do not weep.
16. Though he heap up silver like dust,and pile up clothing like clay,
17. he may pile it up, but the righteous will wear it,and the innocent will divide the silver.
18. He builds his house like a moth’s,like a booth that a watchman makes.
19. He goes to bed rich, but will do so no more;he opens his eyes, and his wealth is gone.
20. Terrors overtake him like a flood;in the night a whirlwind carries him off.
21. The east wind lifts him up and he is gone;it sweeps him out of his place.
22. It hurls at him without pity;he flees from its power in headlong flight.
23. It claps its hands at himand hisses at him from its place.