9 A poem by King Hezekiah of Judah after he had been sick and had recovered from his illness:

10 I said: In the primeH of my lifex

I must go to the gates of Sheol;y

I am deprived of the rest of my years.

11 I said: I will never see the Lord,

the Lord in the land of the living;z

I will not look on humanity any longer

with the inhabitants of what is passing away.I

12 My dwelling is plucked up and removed from me

like a shepherd’s tent.aa

I have rolled up my life like a weaver;ab

he cuts me off from the loom.ac

By nightfall* you make an end of me.ad

13 I thought until the morning:

He will break all my bones like a lion.

By nightfall you make an end of me.

14 I chirp like a swallow or a crane;

I moan like a dove.ae

My eyes grow weak looking upward.

Lord, I am oppressed; support me.a

15 What can I say?

He has spoken to me,

and he himself has done it.

I walk along slowly all my yearsb

because of the bitterness of my soul.c

16 Lord, by such things people live,d

and in every one of them my spirit finds life;

you have restored me to healthe

and let me live.f

17 Indeed, it was for my own well-being

that I had such intense bitterness;g

but your love has delivered me

from the Pit of destruction,h

for you have thrown all my sins behind your back.i

18 For Sheol cannot thank you;

Death cannot praise you.j

Those who go down to the Pit

cannot hope for your faithfulness.

19 The living, only the living can thank you,

as I do today;

a father will make your faithfulness known to children.k

20 The Lord is ready to save me;

we will play stringed instruments

all the days of our lives

at the house of the Lord.l