Their idols [are] silver and gold, work of man's hands,

The idols of the nations [are] silver and gold, Work of the hands of man.

The graven image poured out hath a artisan, And a refiner with gold spreadeth it over, And chains of silver he is refining.

He who is poor [by] heave-offerings, A tree not rotten doth choose, A skilful artisan he seeketh for it, To establish a graven image -- not moved.

Each his neighbour they help, And to his brother he saith, 'Be strong.'

He hath wrought iron [with] an axe, And hath wrought with coals, And with hammers doth form it, And doth work it by his powerful arm, Yea, he is hungry, and there is no power, He doth not drink water, and he is wearied.

They lift him up on the shoulder, They carry him, and cause him to rest in his place, And he standeth, from his place he moveth not, Yea, one crieth unto him, and he answereth not, From his adversity he saveth him not.