Job 7

¹Is there not a war-service for man on the earth? Are not his days as the days of a hireling?

²As a servant panteth for the shade, And as a hireling looketh for his wages,

³So am I made to possess months of affliction, And wearisome nights are appointed for me.

⁴If I lie down, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? And I am full of restlessness until 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; They pass away without hope.

⁷O remember that my life is a breath; That mine eye shall no more see good!

⁸The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more; Thine eyes shall look for me, but I shall not be.

⁹As the cloud dissolveth and wasteth away, So he that goeth down to the grave shall arise no more;

¹⁰No more shall he return to his house, And his dwelling-place shall know him no more.

¹¹Therefore I will not restrain 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 sea-monster, That thou settest a watch over me?

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

¹⁴Then thou scarest me with dreams, And terrifiest me with visions;

¹⁵So that my soul chooseth strangling, Yea, death, rather than these my bones.

¹⁶I am wasting away; I shall not live alway: Let me alone, for my days are a vapor!

¹⁷What is man, that thou shouldst make great account him, And fix thy mind upon him?—

¹⁸That thou shouldst visit him every morning, And prove him every moment?

¹⁹How long ere thou wilt look away from me, And let me alone, till I have time to breathe?

²⁰If I have sinned, what have I done to thee, O thou watcher of men! Why hast thou set me up as thy mark, So that I have become a burden to myself?

²¹And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, And take away mine iniquity? For soon shall I sleep in the dust; And, though thou seek me diligently, I shall not be.

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.