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