Job 7

1Is there not a warfare to man on earth? And as the days of an hireling his days?

2As a servant desireth the shadow, And as a hireling expecteth his wage,

3So I have been caused to inherit months of vanity, And nights of misery they numbered to me.

4If I lay down then I said, 'When do I rise!' And evening hath been measured, And I have been full of tossings till dawn.

5Clothed hath been my flesh with worms, And a clod of dust, My skin hath been shrivelled and is loathsome,

6My days swifter than a weaving machine, And they are consumed without hope.

7Remember Thou that my life is a breath, Mine eye turneth not back to see good.

8The eye of my beholder beholdeth me not. Thine eyes are upon me — and I am not.

9Consumed hath been a cloud, and it goeth, So he who is going down to Sheol cometh not up.

10He turneth not again to his house, Nor doth his place discern him again.

11Also I — I withhold not my mouth — I speak in the distress of my spirit, I talk in the bitterness of my soul.

12A sea -monster am I, or a dragon, That thou settest over me a guard?

13When I said, 'My bed doth comfort me,' He taketh away in my talking my couch.

14And thou hast affrighted me with dreams, And from visions thou terrifiest me,

15And my soul chooseth strangling, Death rather than my bones.

16I have wasted away — not to the age do I live. Cease from me, for my days are vanity.

17What is man that Thou dost magnify him? And that Thou settest unto him Thy heart?

18And inspectest him in the mornings, In the evenings dost try him?

19How long dost Thou not look from me? Thou dost not desist till I swallow my spittle.

20I have sinned, what do I to Thee, O watcher of man? Why hast Thou set me for a mark to Thee, And I am for a burden to myself — and what?

21Thou dost not take away my transgression, And cause to pass away mine iniquity, Because now, for dust I lie down: And Thou hast sought me — and I am not!