أَيُّوبَ 7

١ 1 «أَلَيْسَ جِهَادٌ لِلْإِنْسَانِ عَلَى ٱلْأَرْضِ، وَكَأَيَّامِ ٱلْأَجِيرِ أَيَّامُهُ؟

The life of a man on the earth is a battle, and his days are like the days of a hired hand.

٢ 2 كَمَا يَتَشَوَّقُ ٱلْعَبْدُ إِلَى ٱلظِّلِّ، وَكَمَا يَتَرَجَّى ٱلْأَجِيرُ أُجْرَتَهُ،

Just as a servant desires the shade, and just as the hired hand looks forward to the end of his work,

٣ 3 هَكَذَا تَعَيَّنَ لِي أَشْهُرُ سُوءٍ، وَلَيَالِي شَقَاءٍ قُسِمَتْ لِي.

so also have I had empty months and have counted my burdensome nights.

٤ 4 إِذَا ٱضْطَجَعْتُ أَقُولُ: مَتَى أَقُومُ؟ ٱللَّيْلُ يَطُولُ، وَأَشْبَعُ قَلَقًا حَتَّى ٱلصُّبْحِ.

If I lie down to sleep, I will say, “When will I rise?” And next I will hope for the evening and will be filled with sorrows even until darkness.

٥ 5 لَبِسَ لَحْمِيَ ٱلدُّودُ مَعَ مَدَرِ ٱلتُّرَابِ. جِلْدِي كَرِشَ وَسَاخَ.

My flesh is clothed with particles of rottenness and filth; my skin is dried up and tightened.

٦ 6 أَيَّامِي أَسْرَعُ مِنَ ٱلْوَشِيعَةِ، وَتَنْتَهِي بِغَيْرِ رَجَاءٍ.

My days have passed by more quickly than threads are cut by a weaver, and they have been consumed without any hope.

٧ 7 «اُذْكُرْ أَنَّ حَيَاتِي إِنَّمَا هِيَ رِيحٌ، وَعَيْنِي لَا تَعُودُ تَرَى خَيْرًا.

Remember that my life is wind, and my eye will not return to see good things.

٨ 8 لَا تَرَانِي عَيْنُ نَاظِرِي. عَيْنَاكَ عَلَيَّ وَلَسْتُ أَنَا.

Neither will the sight of man gaze upon me; your eyes are upon me, and I will not endure.

٩ 9 ٱلسَّحَابُ يَضْمَحِلُّ وَيَزُولُ، هَكَذَا ٱلَّذِي يَنْزِلُ إِلَى ٱلْهَاوِيَةِ لَا يَصْعَدُ. (Sheol h7585)

Just as a cloud is consumed and passes away, so he who descends to hell will not ascend. (Sheol h7585)

١٠ 10 لَا يَرْجِعُ بَعْدُ إِلَى بَيْتِهِ، وَلَا يَعْرِفُهُ مَكَانُهُ بَعْدُ.

He will not return again to his house, nor will his own place know him any longer.

١١ 11 أَنَا أَيْضًا لَا أَمْنَعُ فَمِي. أَتَكَلَّمُ بِضِيقِ رُوحِي. أَشْكُو بِمَرَارَةِ نَفْسِي.

And because of this, I will not restrain my mouth. I will speak in the affliction of my spirit. I will converse from the bitterness of my soul.

١٢ 12 أَبَحْرٌ أَنَا أَمْ تِنِّينٌ، حَتَّى جَعَلْتَ عَلَيَّ حَارِسًا؟

Am I an ocean or a whale, that you have encircled me in a prison?

١٣ 13 إِنْ قُلْتُ: فِرَاشِي يُعَزِّينِي، مَضْجَعِي يَنْزِعُ كُرْبَتِي،

If I say, “My bed will comfort me, and I will find rest, speaking with myself on my blanket,”

١٤ 14 تُرِيعُنِي بِٱلْأَحْلَامِ، وَتُرْهِبُنِي بِرُؤًى،

then you will frighten me with dreams, and strike dread through visions,

١٥ 15 فَٱخْتَارَتْ نَفْسِي ٱلْخَنِقَ، ٱلْمَوْتَ عَلَى عِظَامِي هَذِهِ.

so that, because of these things, my soul would choose hanging, and my bones, death.

١٦ 16 قَدْ ذُبْتُ. لَا إِلَى ٱلْأَبَدِ أَحْيَا. كُفَّ عَنِّي لِأَنَّ أَيَّامِي نَفْخَةٌ.

I despair; by no means will I live any longer. Spare me, for my days are nothing.

١٧ 17 مَا هُوَ ٱلْإِنْسَانُ حَتَّى تَعْتَبِرَهُ، وَحَتَّى تَضَعَ عَلَيْهِ قَلْبَكَ؟

What is man, that you should praise him? Or why do you place your heart near him?

١٨ 18 وَتَتَعَهَّدَهُ كُلَّ صَبَاحٍ، وَكُلَّ لَحْظَةٍ تَمْتَحِنَهُ؟

You visit him at dawn, and you test him unexpectedly.

١٩ 19 حَتَّى مَتَى لَا تَلْتَفِتُ عَنِّي وَلَا تُرْخِينِي رَيْثَمَا أَبْلَعُ رِيقِي؟

How long will you not spare me, nor release me to ingest my saliva?

٢٠ 20 أَأَخْطَأْتُ؟ مَاذَا أَفْعَلُ لَكَ يَا رَقِيبَ ٱلنَّاسِ؟ لِمَاذَا جَعَلْتَنِي عَاثُورًا لِنَفْسِكَ حَتَّى أَكُونَ عَلَى نَفْسِي حِمْلًا؟

I have sinned; what should I do for you, O keeper of men? Why have you set me against you, so that I have become burdensome even to myself?

٢١ 21 وَلِمَاذَا لَا تَغْفِرُ ذَنْبِي، وَلَا تُزِيلُ إِثْمِي؟ لِأَنِّي ٱلْآنَ أَضْطَجِعُ فِي ٱلتُّرَابِ، تَطْلُبُنِي فَلَا أَكُونُ».

Why do you not steal away my sin, and why do you not sweep away my iniquity? Behold, now I will sleep in the dust, and if you seek me in the morning, I will not remain.