Job 7
1 Is there not a warfare to a mortal, upon earth? And, as the days of a hireling, are not his days?
Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? are not his days also like the days of a worker?
2 As, a bondman, panteth for the shadow, and as, a hireling, longeth for his wage,
As a servant earnestly desires the shadow, and as a worker looks for the reward of his work:
3 So, have I been made to inherit months of calamity, and, nights of weariness, have been appointed me.
So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me.
4 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.
When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? and I am full of tossings back and forth unto the dawning of the day.
5 My flesh is clothed with worms and a coating of dust, My skin, hath hardened, and then run afresh:
My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and become loathsome.
6 My days, are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and they are spent, without hope.
My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.
7 Remember thou, that, a wind, is my life, not again shall mine eye see blessing:
O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good.
8 Nor shall see me—the eye that used to behold me, Thine eyes, are upon me, and I am not.
The eye of him that has seen me shall see me no more: your eyes are upon me, and I am not.
As the cloud is consumed and vanishes away: so he that goes down to the grave shall come up no more. (Sheol h7585)
10 He shall not return again to his house, and his own place shall be acquainted with him no more.
He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him any more.
11 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.
Therefore I will not refrain 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 sea-monster, —That thou shouldst set over me a watch?
Am I a sea, or a whale, that you set a watch over me?
13 When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall help to carry my complaint,
When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaints;
14 Then thou scarest me with dreams, and, by visions, dost thou terrify me:
Then you scare me with dreams, and terrify me through visions:
15 So that my soul chooseth strangling, Death, rather than [these] my bones!
So that my soul chooses strangling, and death rather than my life.
16 I am wasted away, Not, to times age-abiding, can I live, Let me alone, for, a breath, are my days.
I loathe it; I would not live always: let me alone; for my days are vanity.
17 What is a mortal, that thou shouldst nurture him? Or that thou shouldst fix upon him thy mind?
What is man, that you should magnify him? and that you should set your heart upon him?
18 That thou shouldst inspect him morning by morning, moment by moment, shouldst test him?
And that you should visit him every morning, and try him every moment?
19 How long wilt thou not look away from me? Wilt thou not let me alone, till I can swallow my spittle?
How long will you not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?
20 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?
I have sinned; what shall I do unto you, O you preserver of men? why have you set me as a mark against you, so that I am a burden to myself?
21 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.
And why do you not pardon my transgression, and take away my iniquity? for now shall I sleep in the dust; and you shall seek me in the morning, but I shall not be.
