Job 7
1 Knyythod is lijf of man on erthe, and his daies ben as the daies of an hired man.
“Isn't life for human beings like serving a sentence of hard labor? Don't their days pass like those of a hired laborer?
2 As an hert desireth schadowe, and as an hirede man abideth the ende of his werk;
Like some slave longing for a bit of shade, like a hired hand anxiously waiting for pay day,
3 so and Y hadde voide monethis, and Y noumbrede trauailous niytes to me.
I've been given months of emptiness and nights of misery.
4 If Y schal slepe, Y schal seie, Whanne schal Y rise? and eft Y schal abide the euentid, and Y schal be fillid with sorewis `til to derknessis.
When I go to bed I ask, ‘When shall I get up?’ But the night goes on and on, and I toss and turn until dawn.
5 Mi fleisch is clothid with rot, and filthis of dust; my skyn driede vp, and is drawun togidere.
My body is covered with maggots and caked in dirt; my skin is cracked, with oozing sores.
6 My daies passiden swiftliere thanne a web is kit doun `of a webstere; and tho daies ben wastid with outen ony hope.
My days pass quicker than a weaver's shuttle and they come to an end without hope.
7 God, haue thou mynde, for my lijf is wynde, and myn iye schal not turne ayen, that it se goodis.
Remember that my life is just a breath; I will not see happiness again.
8 Nethir the siyt of man schal biholde me; but thin iyen ben in me, and Y schal not `be in deedli lijf.
Those watching me won't see me anymore; your eyes will be looking for me, but I will be gone.
When a cloud disappears, it's gone, just as anyone who goes down to Sheol does not come back up. (Sheol h7585)
10 nether schal turne ayen more in to his hows, and his place schal no more knowe hym.
They will never return home, and the people they knew will forget them.
11 Wherfor and Y schal not spare my mouth; Y schal speke in the tribulacioun of my spirit, Y schal talke togidere with the bitternesse of my soule.
So, no, I won't hold my tongue—I will speak in the agony of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
12 Whether Y am the see, ethir a whal, for thou hast cumpassid me with prisoun?
Am I the sea or a sea monster that you have to guard me?
13 If Y seie, My bed schal coumfort me, and Y schal be releeuyd, spekynge with me in my bed;
If I tell myself, ‘I'll feel better if I lie down in my bed,’ or ‘it will help me to lie down on my couch,’
14 thou schalt make me aferd bi dremys, and thou schalt schake me with `orrour, ethir hidousnesse, `bi siytis.
then you scare me so much with dreams and terrify me with visions
15 Wherfor my soule `chees hangyng, and my boonys cheesiden deth.
that I would rather be strangled—I would rather die than become just a bag of bones.
16 `Y dispeiride, now Y schal no more lyue; Lord, spare thou me, for my daies ben nouyt.
I hate my life! I know I won't live long. Leave me alone because my life is just a breath.
17 What is a man, for thou `magnifiest hym? ether what settist thou thin herte toward hym?
Why are human beings so important to you; why are you so concerned about them
18 Thou visitist hym eerly, and sudeynli thou preuest hym.
that you inspect them every morning and test them every moment? Won't you ever stop staring at me?
19 Hou long sparist thou not me, nether suffrist me, that Y swolowe my spotele?
Won't you ever leave me alone long enough to catch my breath?
20 Y haue synned; A! thou kepere of men, what schal Y do to thee? Whi hast thou set me contrarie to thee, and Y am maad greuouse to my silf?
What have I done wrong? What have I done to you, Watcher of Humanity? Why have you made me your target, so that I'm a burden even to myself?
21 Whi doist thou not awei my sinne, and whi takist thou not awei my wickidnesse? Lo! now Y schal slepe in dust, and if thou sekist me eerli, Y schal not abide.
If so why don't you pardon my sins, and take away my guilt? Right now I'm going to lie down in the dust, and though you will look for me, I will be gone.”
