Job 7

Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? are not his days also like the days of an hireling?

‘Do not mortals have hard service on earth?
    Are not their days like those of hired labourers?

As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling looketh for the reward of his work:

Like a slave longing for the evening shadows,
    or a hired labourer waiting to be paid,

So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me.

so I have been allotted months of futility,
    and nights of misery have been assigned to me.

When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? and I am full of tossings to and fro unto the dawning of the day.

When I lie down I think, “How long before I get up?”
    The night drags on, and I toss and turn until dawn.

My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and become loathsome.

My body is clothed with worms and scabs,
    my skin is broken and festering.

My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.

‘My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,
    and they come to an end without hope.

O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good.

Remember, O God, that my life is but a breath;
    my eyes will never see happiness again.

The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not.

The eye that now sees me will see me no longer;
    you will look for me, but I will be no more.

As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away: so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more.

As a cloud vanishes and is gone,
    so one who goes down to the grave does not return.

He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him any more.

He will never come to his house again;
    his place will know him no more.

Therefore I will not refrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

‘Therefore I will not keep silent;
    I will speak out in the anguish of my spirit,
    I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

Am I a sea, or a whale, that thou settest a watch over me?

Am I the sea, or the monster of the deep,
    that you put me under guard?

When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaints;

When I think my bed will comfort me
    and my couch will ease my complaint,

Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions:

even then you frighten me with dreams
    and terrify me with visions,

So that my soul chooseth strangling, and death rather than my life.

so that I prefer strangling and death,
    rather than this body of mine.

I loathe it; I would not live alway: let me alone; for my days are vanity.

I despise my life; I would not live for ever.
    Let me alone; my days have no meaning.

What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him?

‘What is mankind that you make so much of them,
    that you give them so much attention,

And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, and try him every moment?

that you examine them every morning
    and test them every moment?

How long wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?

Will you never look away from me,
    or let me alone even for an instant?

I have sinned; what shall I do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? why hast thou set me as a mark against thee, so that I am a burden to myself?

If I have sinned, what have I done to you,
    you who see everything we do?
Why have you made me your target?
    Have I become a burden to you?^[a]

And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away my iniquity? for now shall I sleep in the dust; and thou shalt seek me in the morning, but I shall not be.

Why do you not pardon my offences
    and forgive my sins?
For I shall soon lie down in the dust;
    you will search for me, but I shall be no more.’