Job
7 “Is there not a compulsory labor+ for mortal man on earth,
And are not his days like the days of a hired laborer?+
3 Thus I have been made to possess worthless lunar months,+
And nights of trouble+ they have counted out to me.
4 When I have lain down I have also said, ‘When shall I get up?’+
And [when] evening actually goes its measure, I have also been glutted with restlessness until morning twilight.
5 My flesh has become clothed with maggots+ and lumps of dust;+
My skin itself has formed crusts and dissolves.+
6 My days themselves have become swifter+ than a weaver’s shuttle,
And they come to an end in hopelessness.+
9 The cloud certainly comes to its end and goes away;
So he that is going down to Sheʹol will not come up.+
11 I, also, I shall not hold back my mouth.
I will speak in the distress of my spirit;*
I will be concerned with the bitterness of my soul!+
13 When I said, ‘My divan will comfort me,
My bed will help carry my concern,’
14 You even have terrified me with dreams,
And by visions you make me start up in fright,
15 So that my soul chooses suffocation,
Death+ rather than my bones.
16 I have rejected [it];+ to time indefinite I would not live.
Cease from me, for my days are an exhalation.+
17 What is mortal man+ that you should rear him,*
And that you should set your heart upon him,
18 And that you should pay attention to him every morning,
That every moment you should test him?+