7
1 “Isn’t
a man forced
to labor on earth?
Aren’t his days
like the days
of a hired hand?
2 As
a servant who
earnestly desires the
shadow,
as a hireling
who looks for his
wages,
3 so
I am made to
possess months of
misery,
wearisome nights
are appointed
to me.
4 When
I lie down,
I say,
‘When will I
arise, and the
night be gone?’
I toss and turn
until the dawning
of the day.
5 My
flesh is clothed
with worms and
clods of dust.
My skin closes up,
and breaks out afresh.
6 My
days are swifter
than a weaver’s shuttle,
and are spent
without hope.
7 Oh remember
that my life
is a breath.
My eye will
no more see
good.
8 The
eye of him
who sees me
will see me
no more.
Your eyes will
be on me,
but I will
not be.
9 As
the cloud is
consumed and
vanishes away,
so he who
goes down to
Sheol
will come up
no more.
10 He
will return no
more to his
house,
neither will 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.
12 Am I
a sea, or
a sea monster,
that you put
a guard over
me?
13 When
I say, ‘My bed
will comfort me.
My couch will
ease my complaint,’
14 then
you scare me with
dreams
and terrify
me through visions,
15 so that
my soul chooses
strangling,
death rather than
my bones.
16 I
loathe my life.
I don’t want to
live forever.
Leave me alone,
for my days
are but a
breath.
17 What
is man, that
you should magnify
him,
that you should
set your mind
on him,
18 that
you should visit
him every morning,
and test him
every moment?
19 How
long will you
not look away
from me,
nor leave me
alone until I
swallow down my
spittle?
20 If
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?
21 Why
do you not
pardon my disobedience,
and take away
my iniquity?
For now will
I lie down
in the dust.
You will seek
me diligently, but
I will not
be.”