Job 7

1The life of man upon earth is a warfare, and his days are like the days of a hireling.

1Hath not man a life of labour upon earth? and are not his days like the days of a hireling?

2As a servant longeth for the shade, as the hireling looketh for the end of his work;

2As a bondman earnestly desireth the shadow, and a hireling expecteth his wages,

3So I also have had empty months, and have numbered to myself wearisome nights.

3So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me.

4If I lie down to sleep, I shall say: When shall I rise? and again, I shall look for the evening, and shall be filled with sorrows even till darkness.

4If I lie down, I say, When shall I rise up, and the darkness be gone? and I am full of tossings until the dawn.

5My flesh is clothed with rottenness and the filth of dust; my skin is withered and drawn together.

5My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and suppurates.

6My days have passed more swiftly than the web is cut by the weaver, and are consumed without any hope.

6My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.

7Remember that my life is but wind, and my eye shall not return to see good things.

7Remember thou that my life is wind; mine eye shall no more see good.

8Nor shall the sight of man behold me: thy eyes are upon me, and I shall be no more.

8The eye of him that hath seen me shall behold me no [more]: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not.

9As a cloud is consumed, and passeth away: so he that shall go down to hell shall not come up.

9The cloud consumeth and vanisheth away; so he that goeth down to Sheol shall not come up.

10Nor shall he return any more into his house, neither shall his place know him any more

10He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him again.

11Wherefore, I will not spare my mouth, I will speak in the affliction of my spirit: I will talk with the bitterness of my soul.

11Therefore I will not restrain my mouth: I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

12Am I a sea, or a whale, that thou hast enclosed me in a prison?

12Am I a sea, or a sea-monster, that thou settest a watch over me?

13If I say: My bed shall comfort me, and I shall be relieved, speaking with myself on my couch:

13When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint;

14Thou wilt frighten me with dreams, and terrify me with visions.

14Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions;

15So that my soul rather chooseth hanging, and my bones death.

15So that my soul chooseth strangling, death, rather than my bones.

16I have done with hope, I shall now live no longer: spare me, for my days are nothing.

16I loathe it; I shall not live always: let me alone, for my days are a breath.

17What is a man, that thou shouldst magnify him or why dost thou set thy heart upon him?

17What is man, that thou makest much of him? and that thou settest thy heart upon him?

18Thou visitest him early in the morning, and thou provest him suddenly.

18And that thou visitest him every morning, triest him every moment?

19How long wilt thou not spare me, nor suffer me to swallow down my spittle?

19How long wilt thou not look away from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?

20I have sinned: what shall I do to thee, O keeper of men? why hast thou set me opposite to thee. and am I become burdensome to myself?

20Have I sinned, what do I unto thee, thou Observer of men? Why hast thou set me as an object of assault for thee, so that I am become a burden to myself?

21Why 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.

21And why dost not thou forgive my transgression and take away mine iniquity? for now shall I lie down in the dust, and thou shalt seek me early, and I shall not be.