Job 7
1 “Is not man consigned to labor on earth? Are not his days like those of a hired hand?
Has not man his ordered time of trouble on the earth? and are not his days like the days of a servant working for payment?
2 Like a slave he longs for shade; like a hireling he waits for his wages.
As a servant desiring the shades of evening, and a workman looking for his payment:
3 So I am allotted months of futility, and nights of misery are appointed me.
So I have for my heritage months of pain to no purpose, and nights of weariness are given to me.
4 When I lie down I think: ‘When will I get up?’ But the night drags on, and I toss and turn until dawn.
When I go to my bed, I say, When will it be time to get up? but the night is long, and I am turning from side to side till morning light.
5 My flesh is clothed with worms and encrusted with dirt; my skin is cracked and festering.
My flesh is covered with worms and dust; my skin gets hard and then is cracked again.
6 My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle; they come to an end without hope.
My days go quicker than the cloth-worker's thread, and come to an end without hope.
7 Remember that my life is but a breath. My eyes will never again see happiness.
O, keep in mind that my life is wind: my eye will never again see good.
8 The eye that beholds me will no longer see me. You will look for me, but I will be no more.
The eye of him who sees me will see me no longer: your eyes will be looking for me, but I will be gone.
9 As a cloud vanishes and is gone, so he who goes down to Sheol does not come back up. (Sheol h7585)
A cloud comes to an end and is gone; so he who goes down into the underworld comes not up again. (Sheol h7585)
10 He never returns to his house; his place remembers him no more.
He will not come back to his house, and his place will have no more knowledge of him.
11 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.
So I will not keep my mouth shut; I will let the words come from it in the pain of my spirit, my soul will make a bitter outcry.
12 Am I the sea, or the monster of the deep, that You must keep me under guard?
Am I a sea, or a sea-beast, that you put a watch over me?
13 When I think my bed will comfort me and my couch will ease my complaint,
When I say, In my bed I will have comfort, there I will get rest from my disease;
14 then You frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions,
Then you send dreams to me, and visions of fear;
15 so that I would prefer strangling and death over my life in this body.
So that a hard death seems better to my soul than my pains.
16 I loathe my life! I would not live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath.
I have no desire for life, I would not be living for ever! Keep away from me, for my days are as a breath.
17 What is man that You should exalt him, that You should set Your heart upon him,
What is man, that you have made him great, and that your attention is fixed on him,
18 that You attend to him every morning, and test him every moment?
And that your hand is on him every morning, and that you are testing him every minute?
19 Will You never look away from me, or leave me alone to swallow my spittle?
How long will it be before your eyes are turned away from me, so that I may have a minute's breathing-space?
20 If I have sinned, what have I done to You, O watcher of mankind? Why have You made me Your target, so that I am a burden to You?
If I have done wrong, what have I done to you, O keeper of men? why have you made me a mark for your blows, so that I am a weariness to myself?
21 Why do You not pardon my transgression and take away my iniquity? For soon I will lie down in the dust; You will seek me, but I will be no more.”
And why do you not take away my sin, and let my wrongdoing be ended? for now I go down to the dust, and you will be searching for me with care, but I will be gone.
