Job 7
1 The life of a man on the earth is a battle, and his days are like the days of a hired hand.
“Is not man consigned to labor on earth? Are not his days like those of a hired hand?
2 Just as a servant desires the shade, and just as the hired hand looks forward to the end of his work,
Like a slave he longs for shade; like a hireling he waits for his wages.
3 so also have I had empty months and have counted my burdensome nights.
So I am allotted months of futility, and nights of misery are appointed me.
4 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.
When I lie down I think: ‘When will I get up?’ But the night drags on, and I toss and turn until dawn.
5 My flesh is clothed with particles of rottenness and filth; my skin is dried up and tightened.
My flesh is clothed with worms and encrusted with dirt; my skin is cracked and festering.
6 My days have passed by more quickly than threads are cut by a weaver, and they have been consumed without any hope.
My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle; they come to an end without hope.
7 Remember that my life is wind, and my eye will not return to see good things.
Remember that my life is but a breath. My eyes will never again see happiness.
8 Neither will the sight of man gaze upon me; your eyes are upon me, and I will not endure.
The eye that beholds me will no longer see me. You will look for me, but I will be no more.
9 Just as a cloud is consumed and passes away, so he who descends to hell will not ascend. (Sheol h7585)
As a cloud vanishes and is gone, so he who goes down to Sheol does not come back up. (Sheol h7585)
10 He will not return again to his house, nor will his own place know him any longer.
He never returns to his house; his place remembers him no more.
11 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.
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.
12 Am I an ocean or a whale, that you have encircled me in a prison?
Am I the sea, or the monster of the deep, that You must keep me under guard?
13 If I say, “My bed will comfort me, and I will find rest, speaking with myself on my blanket,”
When I think my bed will comfort me and my couch will ease my complaint,
14 then you will frighten me with dreams, and strike dread through visions,
then You frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions,
15 so that, because of these things, my soul would choose hanging, and my bones, death.
so that I would prefer strangling and death over my life in this body.
16 I despair; by no means will I live any longer. Spare me, for my days are nothing.
I loathe my life! I would not live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath.
17 What is man, that you should praise him? Or why do you place your heart near him?
What is man that You should exalt him, that You should set Your heart upon him,
18 You visit him at dawn, and you test him unexpectedly.
that You attend to him every morning, and test him every moment?
19 How long will you not spare me, nor release me to ingest my saliva?
Will You never look away from me, or leave me alone to swallow my spittle?
20 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?
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?
21 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.
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.”
