Job 7
1 “Is not man consigned to labor on earth? Are not his days like those of a hired hand?
Militia est vita hominis super terram, et sicut dies mercenarii dies ejus.
2 Like a slave he longs for shade; like a hireling he waits for his wages.
Sicut servus desiderat umbram, et sicut mercenarius præstolatur finem operis sui,
3 So I am allotted months of futility, and nights of misery are appointed me.
sic et ego habui menses vacuos, et noctes laboriosas enumeravi mihi.
4 When I lie down I think: ‘When will I get up?’ But the night drags on, and I toss and turn until dawn.
Si dormiero, dicam: Quando consurgam? et rursum expectabo vesperam, et replebor doloribus usque ad tenebras.
5 My flesh is clothed with worms and encrusted with dirt; my skin is cracked and festering.
Induta est caro mea putredine, et sordibus pulveris cutis mea aruit et contracta est.
6 My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle; they come to an end without hope.
Dies mei velocius transierunt quam a texente tela succiditur, et consumpti sunt absque ulla spe.
7 Remember that my life is but a breath. My eyes will never again see happiness.
Memento quia ventus est vita mea, et non revertetur oculus meus ut videat bona.
8 The eye that beholds me will no longer see me. You will look for me, but I will be no more.
Nec aspiciet me visus hominis; oculi tui in me, et non subsistam.
9 As a cloud vanishes and is gone, so he who goes down to Sheol does not come back up. (Sheol h7585)
Sicut consumitur nubes, et pertransit, sic qui descenderit ad inferos, non ascendet. (Sheol h7585)
10 He never returns to his house; his place remembers him no more.
Nec revertetur ultra in domum suam, neque cognoscet eum amplius locus ejus.
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.
Quapropter et ego non parcam ori meo: loquar in tribulatione spiritus mei; confabulabor cum amaritudine animæ meæ.
12 Am I the sea, or the monster of the deep, that You must keep me under guard?
Numquid mare ego sum, aut cetus, quia circumdedisti me carcere?
13 When I think my bed will comfort me and my couch will ease my complaint,
Si dixero: Consolabitur me lectulus meus, et relevabor loquens mecum in strato meo:
14 then You frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions,
terrebis me per somnia, et per visiones horrore concuties.
15 so that I would prefer strangling and death over my life in this body.
Quam ob rem elegit suspendium anima mea, et mortem ossa mea.
16 I loathe my life! I would not live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath.
Desperavi: nequaquam ultra jam vivam: parce mihi, nihil enim sunt dies mei.
17 What is man that You should exalt him, that You should set Your heart upon him,
Quid est homo, quia magnificas eum? aut quid apponis erga eum cor tuum?
18 that You attend to him every morning, and test him every moment?
Visitas eum diluculo, et subito probas illum.
19 Will You never look away from me, or leave me alone to swallow my spittle?
Usquequo non parcis mihi, nec dimittis me ut glutiam salivam meam?
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?
Peccavi; quid faciam tibi, o custos hominum? quare posuisti me contrarium tibi, et factus sum mihimetipsi gravis?
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.”
Cur non tollis peccatum meum, et quare non aufers iniquitatem meam? ecce nunc in pulvere dormiam, et si mane me quæsieris, non subsistam.
