Silver has its mines,
and gold a place for refining.
Iron is extracted from the earth,
the smelted rocks yield copper.
Man makes an end of darkness,
to the utmost limits he digs
the black rock in shadow dark as death.
Foreigners bore into ravines
in unfrequented places,
swinging suspended far from human beings.
That earth from which bread comes
is ravaged underground by fire.
There, the rocks have veins of sapphire
and their dust contains gold.
That is a path unkown to the birds of prey,
unseen by the eye of any vulture;
A path not trodden by the lordly beasts,
where no lion ever walked.
Man attacks the flint,
upturning moutains by the roots.
He cuts canals through rock,
on the watch for anything precious.
He explores the sources of rivers,
bringing the hidden things to light.
But where does wisdom come from?
Where is intelligence to be found?
A Hymn in Praise of Wisdom – Book of Job 28: V Century BC