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 not the life of man upon earth a state of trial? and his existence as that of a hireling by the day?
2 As, a bondman, panteth for the shadow, and as, a hireling, longeth for his wage,
Or as a servant that fears his master, and one who has grasped a shadow? or as a hireling waiting for his pay?
3 So, have I been made to inherit months of calamity, and, nights of weariness, have been appointed me.
So have I also endured months of vanity, and nights of pain have been appointed 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.
Whenever I lie down, I say, When [will it be] day? and whenever I rise up, again [I say] when [will it be] evening? and I am full of pains from evening to morning.
5 My flesh is clothed with worms and a coating of dust, My skin, hath hardened, and then run afresh:
And my body is covered with loathsome worms; and I waste away, scraping off clods of dust from my eruption.
6 My days, are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and they are spent, without hope.
And my life is lighter than a word, and has perished in vain hope.
7 Remember thou, that, a wind, is my life, not again shall mine eye see blessing:
Remember then that my life is breath, and mine eye shall not yet again 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 sees me shall not see me [again]: your eyes are upon me, and I am no more.
[I am] as a cloud that is cleared away from the sky: for if a man go down to the grave, he shall not come up again: (Sheol h7585)
10 He shall not return again to his house, and his own place shall be acquainted with him no more.
and he shall surely not return to his own 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.
Then neither will I refrain my mouth: I will speak being in distress; being in anguish I will disclose 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 serpent, that you have set a watch over me?
13 When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall help to carry my complaint,
I said that my bed should comfort me, and I would privately counsel with myself on my couch.
14 Then thou scarest me with dreams, and, by visions, dost thou terrify me:
You scare me with dreams, and do terrify me with visions.
15 So that my soul chooseth strangling, Death, rather than [these] my bones!
You will separate life from my spirit; and yet [keep] my bones from death.
16 I am wasted away, Not, to times age-abiding, can I live, Let me alone, for, a breath, are my days.
For I shall not live for ever, that I should patiently endure: depart from me, for my life [is] vain.
17 What is a mortal, that thou shouldst nurture him? Or that thou shouldst fix upon him thy mind?
For what is man, that you have magnified him? or that you give heed to him?
18 That thou shouldst inspect him morning by morning, moment by moment, shouldst test him?
Will you visit him till the morning, and judge him till [the time of] rest?
19 How long wilt thou not look away from me? Wilt thou not let me alone, till I can swallow my spittle?
How long do you not let me alone, nor let me go, until I shall 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?
If I have sinned, what shall I be able to do, O you that understand the mind of men? why have you made me as your accuser, and [why] am I a burden to you?
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.
Why have you not forgotten my iniquity, and purged my sin? but now I shall depart to the earth; and in the morning I am no more.
