Job 7

¹Has not man his ordered time of trouble on the earth? and are not his days like the days of a servant working for payment?

²As a servant desiring the shades of evening, and a workman looking for his payment:

³So I have for my heritage months of pain to no purpose, and nights of weariness are given to me.

⁴When I go to my bed, I say, When will it be time to get up? but the night is long, and I am turning from side to side till morning light.

⁵My flesh is covered with worms and dust; my skin gets hard and then is cracked again.

⁶My days go quicker than the cloth-worker's thread, and come to an end without hope.

⁷O, keep in mind that my life is wind: my eye will never again see good.

⁸The eye of him who sees me will see me no longer: your eyes will be looking for me, but I will be gone.

⁹A cloud comes to an end and is gone; so he who goes down into the underworld comes not up again.

¹⁰He will not come back to his house, and his place will have no more knowledge of him.

¹¹So I will not keep my mouth shut; I will let the words come from it in the pain of my spirit, my soul will make a bitter outcry.

¹²Am I a sea, or a sea-beast, that you put a watch over me?

¹³When I say, In my bed I will have comfort, there I will get rest from my disease;

¹⁴Then you send dreams to me, and visions of fear;

¹⁵So that a hard death seems better to my soul than my pains.

¹⁶I have no desire for life, I would not be living for ever! Keep away from me, for my days are as a breath.

¹⁷What is man, that you have made him great, and that your attention is fixed on him,

¹⁸And that your hand is on him every morning, and that you are testing him every minute?

¹⁹How long will it be before your eyes are turned away from me, so that I may have a minute's breathing-space?

²⁰If I have done wrong, what have I done to you, O keeper of men? why have you made me a mark for your blows, so that I am a weariness to myself?

²¹And why do you not take away my sin, and let my wrongdoing be ended? for now I go down to the dust, and you will be searching for me with care, but I will be gone.

Job 7

¹"Isn't a man forced to labor on earth? Aren't his days like the days of a hired hand?

²As a servant who earnestly desires the shadow, as a hireling who looks for his wages,

³so am I made to possess months of misery, wearisome nights are appointed to me.

⁴When I lie down, I say, 'When shall I arise, and the night be gone?' I toss and turn until the dawning of the day.

⁵My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust. My skin closes up, and breaks out afresh.

⁶My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.

⁷Oh remember that my life is a breath. My eye shall no more see good.

⁸The eye of him who sees me shall see me no more. Your eyes shall be on me, but I shall not be.

⁹As the cloud is consumed and vanishes away, so he who goes down to Sheol shall come up no more.

¹⁰He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him any more.

¹¹"Therefore I will not keep silent. I will speak in the anguish of my spirit. I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

¹²Am I a sea, or a sea monster, that you put a guard over me?

¹³When I say, 'My bed shall comfort me. My couch shall ease my complaint;'

¹⁴then you scare me with dreams, and terrify me through visions:

¹⁵so that my soul chooses strangling, death rather than my bones.

¹⁶I loathe my life. I do not want to live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath.

¹⁷What is man, that you should magnify him, that you should set your mind on him,

¹⁸that you should visit him every morning, and test him every moment?

¹⁹How long will you not look away from me, nor leave me alone until I swallow down my spittle?

²⁰If I have sinned, what do I do to you, you watcher of men? Why have you set me as a mark for you, so that I am a burden to myself?

²¹Why do you not pardon my disobedience, and take away my iniquity? For now shall I lie down in the dust. You will seek me diligently, but I shall not be."