Job 7

Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? are not his days also like the days of an hireling?

Doesn't every person have a set time on earth, just like a worker has his scheduled days?

As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling looketh for the reward of his work:

Just as a worker longs for the shade after a hard day's work, and eagerly awaits his well-deserved pay.

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

I am burdened with endless months of emptiness, and long, tiresome nights are my destiny.

When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? and I am full of tossings to and fro unto the dawning of the day.

As I lay down, I wonder, when will I wake, when will the night end? I am restless, tossing and turning until the break of day.

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

My body is infested with parasites and covered in dirt; my skin is damaged and repulsive.

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

My life is passing by faster than a blink, filled with despair.

O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good.

Please remember, my life is as fleeting as the wind; my eyes will never again witness joy.

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

Those who have seen me will see me no more; you're looking at me, but I'm already gone.

As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away: so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more.

Just as a cloud fades and disappears, so too does a person who passes away, never to return.

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

He will never go back home, his old spot won't recognize him anymore.

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

I won't hold back my words; I'll voice my deep pain and express the sorrow in my soul.

Am I a sea, or a whale, that thou settest a watch over me?

Do you see me as a vast ocean or a giant whale, that you keep such a close eye on me?

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

When I declare, my bed will bring me peace, my sofa will soothe my worries.

Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions:

Then you frighten me with nightmares, and fill me with fear through visions.

So that my soul chooseth strangling, and death rather than my life.

My soul yearns for release, preferring the embrace of death over the pain of life.

I loathe it; I would not live alway: let me alone; for my days are vanity.

I despise this; I don't want to live forever: leave me be; my days are meaningless.

What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him?

Why, oh why, would you, in your greatness, care so deeply for such a simple creature like man?

And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, and try him every moment?

You visit him each morning, testing him at every moment.

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

When will you finally leave me in peace, even if just for the time it takes me to catch my breath?

I have sinned; what shall I do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? why hast thou set me as a mark against thee, so that I am a burden to myself?

I have sinned; what can I do to you, O you who watch over us all? Why have you made me a target, causing me to feel like a burden to myself?

And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away my iniquity? for now shall I sleep in the dust; and thou shalt seek me in the morning, but I shall not be.

Why won't you pardon my sin and take away my guilt? Soon, I'll be gone, sleeping in the dust. You'll look for me when dawn breaks, but I won't be there.