Job 7
1 Hath not man a life of labour upon earth? and are not his days like the days of a hireling?
Is there not a warfare to a mortal, upon earth? And, as the days of a hireling, are not his days?
2 As a bondman earnestly desireth the shadow, and a hireling expecteth his wages,
As, a bondman, panteth for the shadow, and as, a hireling, longeth for his wage,
3 So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me.
So, have I been made to inherit months of calamity, and, nights of weariness, have been appointed me.
4 If I lie down, I say, When shall I rise up, and the darkness be gone? and I am full of tossings until the dawn.
As soon as I lie down, I say, When shall I arise? yet he lengtheneth out the evening, and I am wearied with tossings until the breeze of twilight.
5 My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and suppurates.
My flesh is clothed with worms and a coating of dust, My skin, hath hardened, and then run afresh:
6 My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.
My days, are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and they are spent, without hope.
7 Remember thou that my life is wind; mine eye shall no more see good.
Remember thou, that, a wind, is my life, not again shall mine eye see blessing:
8 The eye of him that hath seen me shall behold me no [more]: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not.
Nor shall see me—the eye that used to behold me, Thine eyes, are upon me, and I am not.
9 The cloud consumeth and vanisheth away; so he that goeth down to Sheol shall not come up. (Sheol h7585)
A cloud faileth, and is gone, So, he that descendeth to hades, shall not come up: (Sheol h7585)
10 He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him again.
He shall not return again to his house, and his own place shall be acquainted with him no more.
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.
I also, cannot restrain my mouth, —I must speak, in the anguish of my spirit, I must find utterance, in the bitterness of my soul.
12 Am I a sea, or a sea-monster, that thou settest a watch over me?
Am, I, a sea, or a sea-monster, —That thou shouldst set over me a watch?
13 When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint;
When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall help to carry my complaint,
14 Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions;
Then thou scarest me with dreams, and, by visions, dost thou terrify me:
15 So that my soul chooseth strangling, death, rather than my bones.
So that my soul chooseth strangling, Death, rather than [these] my bones!
16 I loathe it; I shall not live always: let me alone, for my days are a breath.
I am wasted away, Not, to times age-abiding, can I live, Let me alone, for, a breath, are my days.
17 What is man, that thou makest much of him? and that thou settest thy heart upon him?
What is a mortal, that thou shouldst nurture him? Or that thou shouldst fix upon him thy mind?
18 And that thou visitest him every morning, triest him every moment?
That thou shouldst inspect him morning by morning, moment by moment, shouldst test him?
19 How long wilt thou not look away from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?
How long wilt thou not look away from me? Wilt thou not let me alone, till I can swallow my spittle?
20 Have I sinned, what do I unto thee, thou Observer of men? Why hast thou set me as an object of assault for thee, so that I am become a burden to myself?
I have sinned, What can I do for thee, thou watcher of men? Wherefore hast thou set me as thine object of attack, or have I become, unto thee, a burden?
21 And why dost not thou forgive my transgression and take away mine iniquity? for now shall I lie down in the dust, and thou shalt seek me early, and I shall not be.
And why wilt thou not remove my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? For, now, in the dust, should I lie down, and thou shouldst seek me diligently, and I should not be.
