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 a war-service for man on the earth? Are not his days as the days of a hireling?
2 As, a bondman, panteth for the shadow, and as, a hireling, longeth for his wage,
As a servant panteth for the shade, And as a hireling looketh for his wages,
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 affliction, And wearisome nights are appointed for 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.
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 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; They pass away without hope.
7 Remember thou, that, a wind, is my life, not again shall mine eye see blessing:
O remember that my life is a breath; That 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 hath seen me shall see me no more; Thine eyes shall look for me, but I shall not be.
As the cloud dissolveth and wasteth away, So he that goeth down to the grave shall arise no more; (Sheol h7585)
10 He shall not return again to his house, and his own place shall be acquainted with him no more.
No more shall he return to his house, And his dwelling-place shall know him no 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 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 sea-monster, —That thou shouldst set over me a watch?
Am I a sea, or a sea-monster, That thou settest 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 relieve me, My couch shall ease my complaint,
14 Then thou scarest me with dreams, and, by visions, dost thou terrify me:
Then thou scarest me with dreams, And terrifiest me with visions;
15 So that my soul chooseth strangling, Death, rather than [these] my bones!
So that my soul chooseth strangling, Yea, death, rather than these my bones.
16 I am wasted away, Not, to times age-abiding, can I live, Let me alone, for, a breath, are my days.
I am wasting away; I shall not live alway: Let me alone, for my days are a vapor!
17 What is a mortal, that thou shouldst nurture him? Or that thou shouldst fix upon him thy mind?
What is man, that thou shouldst make great account him, And fix thy mind upon him?—
18 That thou shouldst inspect him morning by morning, moment by moment, shouldst test him?
That thou shouldst visit him every morning, And prove 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 ere thou wilt look away from me, And let me alone, till I have time to breathe?
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 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 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 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.
