Job 7
1 The life of man upon earth is a warfare, and his days are like the days of a hireling.
Is there not a war-service for man on the earth? Are not his days as the days of a hireling?
2 As a servant longeth for the shade, as the hireling looketh for the end of his work;
As a servant panteth for the shade, And as a hireling looketh for his wages,
3 So I also have had empty months, and have numbered to myself wearisome nights.
So am I made to possess months of affliction, And wearisome nights are appointed for me.
4 If I lie down to sleep, I shall say: When shall arise? and again I shall look for the evening, and shall be filled with sorrows even till darkness.
If I lie down, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? And I am full of restlessness until the dawning of the day.
5 My flesh is clothed with rottenness and the filth of dust, my skin is withered and drawn together.
My flesh is clothed with worms, and clods of dust; My skin is broken and become loathsome.
6 My days have passed more swiftly than the web is cut by the weaver, and are consumed without any hope.
My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle; They pass away without hope.
7 Remember that my life is but wind, and my eyes shall not return to see good things.
O remember that my life is a breath; That mine eye shall no more see good!
8 Nor shall the sight of man behold me: thy eyes are upon me, and I shall be no more.
The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more; Thine eyes shall look for me, but I shall not be.
9 As a cloud is consumed, and passeth away: so he that shall go down to hell shall not come up. (Sheol h7585)
As the cloud dissolveth and wasteth away, So he that goeth down to the grave shall arise no more; (Sheol h7585)
10 Nor shall he return my more into his house, neither shall his place know him any more.
No more shall he return to his house, And his dwelling-place shall know him no more.
11 Wherefore I will not spare my month, I will speak in the affliction of my spirit: I will talk with 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 a sea, or a whale, that thou hast enclosed me in a prison?
Am I a sea, or a sea-monster, That thou settest a watch over me?
13 If I say: My bed shall comfort me, and I shall be relieved speaking with myself on my couch:
When I say, My bed shall relieve me, My couch shall ease my complaint,
14 Thou wilt frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions.
Then thou scarest me with dreams, And terrifiest me with visions;
15 So that my soul rather chooseth hanging, and my bones death.
So that my soul chooseth strangling, Yea, death, rather than these my bones.
16 I have done with hope, I shall now live no longer: spare me, for my days are nothing.
I am wasting away; I shall not live alway: Let me alone, for my days are a vapor!
17 What is a man that thou shouldst magnify him? or why dost thou set thy heart upon him?
What is man, that thou shouldst make great account him, And fix thy mind upon him?—
18 Thou visitest him early in the morning, and thou provest him suddenly.
That thou shouldst visit him every morning, And prove him every moment?
19 How long wilt thou not spare me, nor suffer me to swallow down my spittle?
How long ere thou wilt look away from me, And let me alone, till I have time to breathe?
20 I have sinned: what shall I do to thee, O keeper of men? why hast thou set me opposite to thee, and I am become burdensome to myself?
If I have sinned, what have I done to thee, O thou watcher of men! Why hast thou set me up as thy mark, So that I have become a burden to myself?
21 Why dost thou not remove my sin, and why dost thou not take away my iniquity? Behold now I shall sleep in the dust: and if thou seek me in the morning, I shall not be.
And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, And take away mine iniquity? For soon shall I sleep in the dust; And, though thou seek me diligently, I shall not be.
