|"Has not man a hard service upon earth, |
and are not his days like the days of a hireling?
|Like a slave who longs for the shadow, |
and like a hireling who looks for his wages,
|so I am allotted months of emptiness, |
and nights of misery are apportioned to me.
|When I lie down I say, 'When shall I arise?' |
But the night is long,
and I am full of tossing till the dawn.
|My flesh is clothed with worms and dirt; |
my skin hardens, then breaks out afresh.
|My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, |
and come to their end without hope.
|"Remember that my life is a breath;|
my eye will never again see good.
|The eye of him who sees me will behold me no more;|
while thy eyes are upon me, I shall be gone.
|As the cloud fades and vanishes, |
so he who goes down to Sheol does not come up;
|he returns no more to his house,|
nor does his place know him any more.
|"Therefore I will not restrain my mouth; |
I will speak in the anguish of my spirit;
I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
|Am I the sea, or a sea monster,|
that thou settest a guard over me?
|When I say, 'My bed will comfort me, |
my couch will ease my complaint,'
|then thou dost scare me with dreams |
and terrify me with visions,
|so that I would choose strangling |
and death rather than my bones.
|I loathe my life; I would not live for ever. |
Let me alone, for my days are a breath.
|What is man, that thou dost make so much of him, |
and that thou dost set thy mind upon him,
|dost visit him every morning, |
and test him every moment?
|How long wilt thou not look away from me, |
nor let me alone till I swallow my spittle?
|If I sin, what do I do to thee, thou watcher of men? |
Why hast thou made me thy mark?
Why have I become a burden to thee?
|Why dost thou not pardon my transgression |
and take away my iniquity?
For now I shall lie in the earth;
thou wilt seek me, but I shall not be."
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