To the Chief Musician. A Psalm of the sons of Korah.
Listen up, all the earth! Pay attention!
Everyone in the world, give your ear!
Those born low or born high — doesn't matter!
Whether rich or you're poor — listen here!
Every word of my mouth speaks of wisdom,
every thought is insightful and sharp.
For I listen to many a proverb,
and solve riddles by way of the harp.
Should I fear when my troubles start coming,
or surrounded by venomous foes?
Even those who would trust in their riches,
or would boast how their revenue grows?
Man can neither redeem his own brother,
nor can ransom his life at God's price.
The redemption of souls is so costly
that no payment would ever suffice
to allow him to live on forever;
that his body would never decay.
It is clear wise men die with the foolish,
and the senseless leave wealth without say.
For their graves will entomb them forever,
though estates may yet carry their name.
But, in spite of past glories and honors,
they will perish like beasts all the same.
All of this is the fate of self-confident fools,
and of those who would follow their teachings and rules.
They are sheep that are destined for Sheol;
by their shepherd of death are they led.
In the morning the godly will rule them,
and their bodies will rot with the dead.
From the power of death, God will ransom my soul;
he'll receive me with grace from the hand of Sheol.
Do not fear when the wicked grow richer,
when their homes are the best homes in town.
When they die, they will take with them nothing,
for their wealth will not follow them down.
While they live they think they have been favored,
for they're praised when success comes their way.
But they'll die like their fathers before them,
and will nevermore see light of day.
Those who boast of their wealth yet who understand not,
are like beasts that will perish and then soon forgot.