智慧書 第 15 章

But you, our God, are gracious and true, Longsuffering, and in mercy ordering all things.

For even if we sin, we are your, knowing your dominion; But we will not sin, knowing that we have been accounted your:

For to be acquainted with you is perfect righteousness, And to know your dominion is the root of immortality.

For we weren’t led astray by any evil plan of men’s, Nor yet by painters’ fruitless labor, A form stained with varied colors;

The sight whereof leads fools into lust: Their desire is for the breathless form of a dead image.

Lovers of evil things, and worthy of such hopes as these, Are both those who do, and those who desire, and those who worship.

For a potter, kneading soft earth, Laboriously mouldeth each several vessel for our service: Nay, out of the same clay does he fashion Both the vessels that minister to clean uses, and those of a contrary sort, All in like manner; But what shall be the use of each vessel of either sort, The craftsman himself is the judge.

And also, laboring to an evil end, he mouldeth a vain god out of the same clay, He who, having but a little before been made of earth, After a short space goes his way to the earth out of which he was taken, When he is required to render back the soul which was lent him.

Howbeit he has anxious care, Not because his powers must fail, Nor because his span of life is short; But he matcheth himself against goldsmiths and silversmiths, And he imitateth moulders in brass, And esteemeth it glory that he mouldeth counterfeits.

His heart is ashes, And his hope of less value than earth, And his life of less honor than clay:

Because he was ignorant of him that moulded him, And of him that inspired into him an active soul, And breathed into him a vital spirit.

But he accounted our very life to be a plaything, And our lifetime a gainful fair; For, says he, one must get gain whence one can, though it be by evil.

For this man beyond all others knows that he sins, Out of earthy matter making brittle vessels and graven images.

But most foolish were they all, and of feebler soul than a babe, The enemies of your people, who oppressed them;

Because they even accounted all the idols of the nations to be gods; Which have neither the use of eyes for seeing, Nor nostrils for drawing breath, Nor ears to hear, Nor fingers for handling, And their feet are helpless for walking.

For a man made them, And one whose own spirit is borrowed moulded them; For no one has power, being a man, to mould a god like to himself,

But, being mortal, he makes a dead thing by the work of lawless hands; For he is better than the objects of his worship, Forasmuch as he indeed had life, but they never.

Yes, and the creatures that are most hateful do they worship, For, being compared as to lack of sense, these are worse than all others;

Neither, as seen beside other creatures, are they beautiful, so that one should desire them, But they have escaped both the praise of God and his blessing.