8 We were so proud of ourselves — we bragged about how rich we were — and now, what good has it done us?
9 All those things are gone now; they have disappeared like a shadow, like something you hear and then forget.
10 “A ship sails across the waves of the ocean, but when it is gone, it leaves no trace. You cannot tell it was ever there.
11 A bird flies through the air, but leaves no sign that it has been there. It speeds along, riding through the thin air by the force of its wings, leaving behind no trace of its passing.
12 An arrow splits the air when it is shot at a target, but at once the air closes up behind it, and no one can tell where it passed.
13 It is the same with us — we were born, and then we ceased to be. We left no sign of virtue behind us; we were destroyed by our wickedness.”
14 What hope do wicked people have? Only the hope of straw blown about in the wind, the hope of ocean foam that disappears in the storm, the hope of smoke in the breeze. Their hope lasts no longer than our memory of a guest who stays one day and leaves the next.