Job — Chapter 7

1“Is not man consigned to labor on earth? Are not his days like those of a hired hand?

2Like a slave he longs for shade; like a hireling he waits for his wages.

3So I am allotted months of futility, and nights of misery are appointed to me.

4When I lie down I think: ‘When will I get up?’ But the night drags on, and I toss and turn until dawn.

5My flesh is clothed with worms and encrusted with dirt; my skin is cracked and festering.

6My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle; they come to an end without hope.

7Remember that my life is but a breath. My eyes will never again see happiness.

8The eye that beholds me will no longer see me. You will look for me, but I will be no more.

9As a cloud vanishes and is gone, so he who goes down to Sheol does not come back up.

10He never returns to his house; his place remembers him no more.

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 the sea, or the monster of the deep, that You must keep me under guard?

13When I think my bed will comfort me and my couch will ease my complaint,

14then You frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions,

15so that I would prefer strangling and death over my life in this body.

16I loathe my life! I would not live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath.

17What is man that You should exalt him, that You should set Your heart upon him,

18that You attend to him every morning, and test him every moment?

19Will You never look away from me, or leave me alone to swallow my spittle?

20If I have sinned, what have I done to You, O watcher of mankind? Why have You made me Your target, so that I am a burden to You?

21Why do You not pardon my transgression and take away my iniquity? For soon I will lie down in the dust; You will seek me, but I will be no more.”

1Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? are not his days also like the days of an hireling?

2As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling looketh for the reward of his work:

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

4When 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.

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

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

7O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good.

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

9As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away: so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more.

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

11Therefore I will not refrain 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 settest a watch over me?

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

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

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

16I loathe it; I would not live alway: let me alone; for my days are vanity.

17What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him?

18And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, and try him every moment?

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

20I 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?

21And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? for now shall I sleep in the dust; and thou shalt seek me in the morning, but I shall not be.

1Is there not a warfare to man upon earth? And are not his days like the days of a hireling?

2As a servant that earnestly desireth the shadow, And as a hireling that looketh for his wages:

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

4When 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.

5My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; My skin closeth up, and breaketh out afresh.

6My days are swifter than a weaver`s shuttle, And are spent without hope.

7Oh remember that my life is a breath: Mine eye shall no more see good.

8The eye of him that seeth me shall behold me no more; Thine eyes shall be upon me, but I shall not be.

9As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away, So he that goeth down to Sheol shall come up no more.

10He shall return no more to his house, Neither shall his place know him any more.

11Therefore I will not refrain 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 sea-monster, That thou settest a watch over me?

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

14Then thou scarest me with dreams, And terrifiest me through visions:

15So that my soul chooseth strangling, And death rather than [these] my bones.

16I loathe [my life]; I would not live alway: Let me alone; for my days are vanity.

17What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him, And that thou shouldest set thy mind upon him,

18And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, And try him every moment?

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

20If I have sinned, what do I unto thee, O thou watcher of men? Why hast thou set me as a mark for thee, So that I am a burden to myself?

21And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? For now shall I lie down in the dust; And thou wilt seek me diligently, but I shall not be.

1“Does not humanity have hard service on earth? Are not their days also like the days of a hired man?

2Like a servant longing for the evening shadow, and like a hired man looking for his wages,

3thus I have been made to inherit months of futility, and nights of sorrow have been appointed to me.

4If I lie down, I say, ‘When will I arise?’ And the night stretches on, and I toss and turn restlessly until the day dawns.

5My body is clothed with worms and dirty scabs; my skin is broken and festering.

6My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and they come to an end without hope.

7Remember that my life is but a breath, that my eyes will never again see happiness.

8The eye of him who sees me now will see me no more; your eyes will look for me, but I will be gone.

9As a cloud is dispersed and then disappears, so the one who goes down to the grave does not come up again.

10He returns no more to his house, nor does his place of residence know him anymore.

11“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.

12Am I the sea, or the creature of the deep, that you must put me under guard?

13If I say, ‘My bed will comfort me, my couch will ease my complaint,’

14then you scare me with dreams and terrify me with visions,

15so that I would prefer strangling and death more than life.

16I loathe it; I do not want to live forever; leave me alone, for my days are a vapor!

17“What is mankind that you make so much of them, and that you pay attention to them?

18And that you visit them every morning, and try them every moment?

19Will you never look away from me, will you not let me alone long enough to swallow my spittle?

20If I have sinned—what have I done to you, O watcher of men? Why have you set me as your target? Have I become a burden to you?

21And why do you not pardon my transgression and take away my iniquity? For now I will lie down in the dust, and you will seek me diligently, but I will be gone.”

1“Isn’t a man forced to labor on earth? Aren’t his days like the days of a hired hand?

2As a servant who earnestly desires the shadow, as a hireling who looks for his wages,

3so am I made to possess months of misery, wearisome nights are appointed to me.

4When I lie down, I say, ‘When shall I arise, and the night be gone?’ I toss and turn until the dawning of the day.

5My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust. My skin closes up, and breaks out afresh.

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

7Oh remember that my life is a breath. My eye shall no more see good.

8The eye of him who sees me shall see me no more. Your eyes shall be on me, but I shall not be.

9As the cloud is consumed and vanishes away, so he who goes down to Sheol shall come up no more.

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

11“Therefore I will not keep silent. I will speak in the anguish of my spirit. I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

12Am I a sea, or a sea monster, that you put a guard over me?

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

14then you scare me with dreams, and terrify me through visions:

15so that my soul chooses strangling, death rather than my bones.

16I loathe my life. I don’t want to live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath.

17What is man, that you should magnify him, that you should set your mind on him,

18that you should visit him every morning, and test him every moment?

19How long will you not look away from me, nor leave me alone until I swallow down my spittle?

20If I have sinned, what do I do to you, you watcher of men? Why have you set me as a mark for you, so that I am a burden to myself?

21Why do you not pardon my disobedience, and take away my iniquity? For now shall I lie down in the dust. You will seek me diligently, but I shall not be.”