Job 7

¹Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? are not his days also like the days of an hireling?

²As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling looketh for the reward of his work:

³So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me.

⁴When 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.

⁵My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and become loathsome.

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

⁷O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good.

⁸The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not.

⁹As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away: so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more.

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

¹¹Therefore I will not refrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

¹²Am I a sea, or a whale, that thou settest a watch over me?

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

¹⁴Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions:

¹⁵So that my soul chooseth strangling, and death rather than my life.

¹⁶I loathe it; I would not live alway: let me alone; for my days are vanity.

¹⁷What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him?

¹⁸And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, and try him every moment?

¹⁹How long wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?

²⁰I 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?

²¹And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? for now shall I sleep in the dust; and thou shalt seek me in the morning, but I shall not be.

Job 7

¹The life of man upon earth is a warfare, and his days are like the days of a hireling.

²As a servant longeth for the shade, as the hireling looketh for the end of his work;

³So I also have had empty months, and have numbered to myself wearisome nights.

⁴If I lie down to sleep, I shall say: When shall I rise? and again, I shall look for the evening, and shall be filled with sorrows even till darkness.

⁵My flesh is clothed with rottenness and the filth of dust; my skin is withered and drawn together.

⁶My days have passed more swiftly than the web is cut by the weaver, and are consumed without any hope.

⁷Remember that my life is but wind, and my eye shall not return to see good things.

⁸Nor shall the sight of man behold me: thy eyes are upon me, and I shall be no more.

⁹As a cloud is consumed, and passeth away: so he that shall go down to hell shall not come up.

¹⁰Nor shall he return any more into his house, neither shall his place know him any more

¹¹Wherefore, I will not spare my mouth, I will speak in the affliction of my spirit: I will talk with the bitterness of my soul.

¹²Am I a sea, or a whale, that thou hast enclosed me in a prison?

¹³If I say: My bed shall comfort me, and I shall be relieved, speaking with myself on my couch:

¹⁴Thou wilt frighten me with dreams, and terrify me with visions.

¹⁵So that my soul rather chooseth hanging, and my bones death.

¹⁶I have done with hope, I shall now live no longer: spare me, for my days are nothing.

¹⁷What is a man, that thou shouldst magnify him or why dost thou set thy heart upon him?

¹⁸Thou visitest him early in the morning, and thou provest him suddenly.

¹⁹How long wilt thou not spare me, nor suffer me to swallow down my spittle?

²⁰I have sinned: what shall I do to thee, O keeper of men? why hast thou set me opposite to thee. and am I become burdensome to myself?

²¹Why dost thou not remove my sin, and why dost thou not take away my iniquity? Behold now I shall sleep in the dust: and if thou seek me in the morning, I shall not be.