12. The blacksmith stands at his forge to make a sharp tool,pounding and shaping it with all his might.His work makes him hungry and weak.It makes him thirsty and faint.
13. Then the wood-carver measures a block of woodand draws a pattern on it.He works with chisel and planeand carves it into a human figure.He gives it human beautyand puts it in a little shrine.
14. He cuts down cedars;he selects the cypress and the oak;he plants the pine in the forestto be nourished by the rain.
15. Then he uses part of the wood to make a fire.With it he warms himself and bakes his bread.Then—yes, it’s true—he takes the rest of itand makes himself a god to worship!He makes an idoland bows down in front of it!
16. He burns part of the tree to roast his meatand to keep himself warm.He says, “Ah, that fire feels good.”
17. Then he takes what’s leftand makes his god: a carved idol!He falls down in front of it,worshiping and praying to it.“Rescue me!” he says.“You are my god!”
18. Such stupidity and ignorance!Their eyes are closed, and they cannot see.Their minds are shut, and they cannot think.
19. The person who made the idol never stops to reflect,“Why, it’s just a block of wood!I burned half of it for heatand used it to bake my bread and roast my meat.How can the rest of it be a god?Should I bow down to worship a piece of wood?”
20. The poor, deluded fool feeds on ashes.He trusts something that can’t help him at all.Yet he cannot bring himself to ask,“Is this idol that I’m holding in my hand a lie?”
21. “Pay attention, O Jacob,for you are my servant, O Israel.I, the lord, made you,and I will not forget you.
22. I have swept away your sins like a cloud.I have scattered your offenses like the morning mist.Oh, return to me,for I have paid the price to set you free.”
23. Sing, O heavens, for the lord has done this wondrous thing.Shout for joy, O depths of the earth!Break into song,O mountains and forests and every tree!For the lord has redeemed Jacoband is glorified in Israel.