1 Is there not
an appointed time to man upon earth? are not his days also like the days of an
hireling?
2 As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an
hireling looketh for the reward of his work:
3 So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome
nights are appointed to me.
4 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.
5 My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is
broken, and become loathsome.
6 My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent
without hope.
7 O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good.
8 The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not.
9 As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth
away: so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more.
10 He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his
place know him any more.
11 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.
12 Am I a sea, or a whale, that thou settest
a watch over me?
13 When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my
complaint;
14 Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through
visions:
15 So that my soul chooseth strangling, and death
rather than my life.
16 I loathe it; I would not live alway: let me
alone; for my days are vanity.
17 What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him?
and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him?
18 And that thou shouldest visit him every
morning, and try
him every moment?
19 How long wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till
I swallow down my spittle?
20 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?
21 And 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.
