Job 7

¹ “Do not mortals have hard service on earth?
Are not their days like those of hired laborers?
² Like a slave longing for the evening shadows,
or a hired laborer waiting to be paid,
³ so I have been allotted months of futility,
and nights of misery have been assigned to me.
⁴ When I lie down I think, ‘How long before I get up?’
The night drags on, and I toss and turn until dawn.
⁵ My body is clothed with worms and scabs,
my skin is broken and festering.

⁶ “My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,
and they come to an end without hope.
⁷ Remember, O God, that my life is but a breath;
my eyes will never see happiness again.
⁸ The eye that now sees me will see me no longer;
you will look for me, but I will be no more.
⁹ As a cloud vanishes and is gone,
so one who goes down to the grave does not return.
¹⁰ He will never come to his house again;
his place will know him no more.

¹¹ “Therefore I will not keep silent;
I will speak out in the anguish of my spirit,
I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
¹² Am I the sea, or the monster of the deep,
that you put me under guard?
¹³ When I think my bed will comfort me
and my couch will ease my complaint,
¹⁴ even then you frighten me with dreams
and terrify me with visions,
¹⁵ so that I prefer strangling and death,
rather than this body of mine.
¹⁶ I despise my life; I would not live forever.
Let me alone; my days have no meaning.

¹⁷ “What is mankind that you make so much of them,
that you give them so much attention,
¹⁸ that you examine them every morning
and test them every moment?
¹⁹ Will you never look away from me,
or let me alone even for an instant?
²⁰ If I have sinned, what have I done to you,
you who see everything we do?
Why have you made me your target?
Have I become a burden to you?
²¹ Why do you not pardon my offenses
and forgive my sins?
For I will soon lie down in the dust;
you will search for me, but I will be no more.”