Chapter 36 · 36 of 77
Second Baruch
English, translated by Online Critical Pseudepigrapha — Online Critical Pseudepigrapha, English of the critical text
And when I had said these things, I fell asleep there; and I saw a vision in the night.
There was a forest of trees planted in the plain,
and high mountains and rugged cliffs surrounded it,
and behold, that forest occupied much space.
And behold, opposite it there arose a vine,
and from beneath it a spring flowed out quietly.
And that spring reached as far as the forest,
and it turned into great waves.
And these waves submerged that forest,
and suddenly uprooted the greater part of that forest,
and threw down all the mountains that were around it.
And the height of the forest
was brought
low,
and the summit of the mountains was humbled.
And that spring grew very strong,
so that it left nothing of that
vast forest
except one cedar only.
And when it had cast it down as well,
and destroyed and uprooted the majority of that forest,
so that nothing was left of it,
nor was its place even known,
that
vine was coming with the spring in stillness and great peace,
and it came as far as a place that was not far from the cedar,
and they brought the fallen cedar to it.
And I looked, and behold, that vine opened its mouth,
and spoke and said to that cedar:
“Are you not the cedar
that remained
from the forest of wickedness?
And through your hand wickedness was continual and committed all these years,
and goodness never.
And you exerted power over what was not yours,
nor did you ever show mercy even to what was yours.”
And you used to extend your dominion over those who were far from you,
and those who drew near to you, in the snares of your wickedness you used to seize,
and you used to exalt yourself at all times,
as one who cannot be uprooted.
But now your time has hastened, and your hour has arrived.
Go therefore, you also, O cedar, after the forest
which went before you,
and become dust with it,
and let your dust be mingled together.
And sleep
now in anguish,
and rest
in torment,
until your last time comes, in which you will come again
and be tormented even more.