Add parallel Print Page Options

13 Pangs of a travailing woman come to him, He [is] a son not wise, For he remaineth not the time for the breaking forth of sons.

14 From the hand of Sheol I do ransom them, From death I redeem them, Where [is] thy plague, O death? Where thy destruction, O Sheol? Repentance is hid from Mine eyes.

15 Though he among brethren produceth fruit, Come in doth an east wind, a wind of Jehovah, From a wilderness it is coming up, And it drieth up his fountain, And become dry doth his spring, It -- it spoileth a treasure -- every desirable vessel.

Read full chapter

Bible Gateway Recommends