18 He builds his house as the moth, As a booth which the watchman makes.
19 He lies down rich, but he shall not do so again. He opens his eyes, and he is not.
20 Terrors overtake him like waters; A tempest steals him away in the night.
21 The east wind carries him away, and he departs; It sweeps him out of his place.
22 For it hurls at him, and does not spare, As he flees away from his hand.
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