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Job 7:1–6

Job Continues: My Life Has No Hope

“Has not man ra hard service on earth,

and are not his sdays like the days of a hired hand?

Like a slave who longs for tthe shadow,

and like ua hired hand who looks for his vwages,

so I am allotted months of wemptiness,

xand nights of misery are apportioned to me.

yWhen I lie down I say, ‘When shall I arise?’

But the night is long,

and I am full of tossing till the dawn.

My flesh is clothed with zworms and adirt;

my skin hardens, then bbreaks out afresh.

My days are cswifter than da weaver’s shuttle

and come to their end without hope.

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Job 7:1–6 — The New International Version (NIV)

“Do not mortals have hard service on earth?

Are not their days like those of hired laborers?

Like a slave longing for the evening shadows,

or a hired laborer waiting to be paid,

so I have been allotted months of futility,

and nights of misery have been assigned to me.

When I lie down I think, ‘How long before I get up?’

The night drags on, and I toss and turn until dawn.

My body is clothed with worms and scabs,

my skin is broken and festering.

“My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,

and they come to an end without hope.

Job 7:1–6 — King James Version (KJV 1900)

Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth?

Are not his days also like the days of an hireling?

As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow,

And as an hireling looketh for the reward of his work:

So am I made to possess months of vanity,

And wearisome nights are appointed to me.

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.

My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust;

My skin is broken, and become loathsome.

My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,

And are spent without hope.

Job 7:1–6 — New Living Translation (NLT)

“Is not all human life a struggle?

Our lives are like that of a hired hand,

like a worker who longs for the shade,

like a servant waiting to be paid.

I, too, have been assigned months of futility,

long and weary nights of misery.

Lying in bed, I think, ‘When will it be morning?’

But the night drags on, and I toss till dawn.

My body is covered with maggots and scabs.

My skin breaks open, oozing with pus.

“My days fly faster than a weaver’s shuttle.

They end without hope.

Job 7:1–6 — The New King James Version (NKJV)

Is there not a time of hard service for man on earth?

Are not his days also like the days of a hired man?

Like a servant who earnestly desires the shade,

And like a hired man who eagerly looks for his wages,

So I have been allotted months of futility,

And wearisome nights have been appointed to me.

When I lie down, I say, ‘When shall I arise,

And the night be ended?’

For I have had my fill of tossing till dawn.

My flesh is caked with worms and dust,

My skin is cracked and breaks out afresh.

“My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,

And are spent without hope.

Job 7:1–6 — New Century Version (NCV)

“People have a hard task on earth,

and their days are like those of a laborer.

They are like a slave wishing for the evening shadows,

like a laborer waiting to be paid.

But I am given months that are empty,

and nights of misery have been given to me.

When I lie down, I think, ‘How long until I get up?’

The night is long, and I toss until dawn.

My body is covered with worms and scabs,

and my skin is broken and full of sores.

“My days go by faster than a weaver’s tool,

and they come to an end without hope.

Job 7:1–6 — American Standard Version (ASV)

Is there not a warfare to man upon earth?

And are not his days like the days of a hireling?

As a servant that earnestly desireth the shadow,

And as a hireling that looketh for his wages:

So am I made to possess months of misery,

And wearisome nights are appointed to me.

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.

My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust;

My skin closeth up, and breaketh out afresh.

My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,

And are spent without hope.

Job 7:1–6 — 1890 Darby Bible (DARBY)

Hath not man a life of labour upon earth? and are not his days like the days of a hireling? As a bondman earnestly desireth the shadow, and a hireling expecteth his wages, So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me. If I lie down, I say, When shall I rise up, and the darkness be gone? and I am full of tossings until the dawn. My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and suppurates. My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and are spent without hope.

Job 7:1–6 — GOD’S WORD Translation (GW)

“Isn’t a mortal’s stay on earth difficult 

like a hired hand’s daily ⸤work⸥? 

Like a slave, he longs for shade. 

Like a hired hand, he eagerly looks for his pay. 

Likewise, I have been given months that are of no use, 

and I have inherited nights filled with misery. 

When I lie down, I ask, 

‘When will I get up?’ 

But the evening is long, 

and I’m exhausted from tossing about until dawn. 

My body is covered with maggots and scabs. 

My skin is crusted over with sores; then they ooze. 

My days go swifter than a weaver’s shuttle. 

They are spent without hope. 

Job 7:1–6 — The Holman Christian Standard Bible (HCSB)

Isn’t mankind consigned to forced labor on earth?

Are not his days like those of a hired hand?

Like a slave he longs for shade;

like a hired man he waits for his pay.

So I have been made to inherit months of futility,

and troubled nights have been assigned to me.

When I lie down I think:

When will I get up?

But the evening drags on endlessly,

and I toss and turn until dawn.

My flesh is clothed with maggots and encrusted with dirt.

My skin forms scabs and then oozes.

My days pass more swiftly than a weaver’s shuttle;

they come to an end without hope.

Job 7:1–6 — The New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

“Do not human beings have a hard service on earth,

and are not their days like the days of a laborer?

Like a slave who longs for the shadow,

and like laborers who look for their wages,

so I am allotted months of emptiness,

and nights of misery are apportioned to me.

When I lie down I say, ‘When shall I rise?’

But the night is long,

and I am full of tossing until dawn.

My flesh is clothed with worms and dirt;

my skin hardens, then breaks out again.

My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,

and come to their end without hope.

Job 7:1–6 — The Lexham English Bible (LEB)

“Does not a human being have hard service on earth?

And are not his days like the days of a laborer?

Like a slave he longs for the shadow,

and like a laborer he waits for his wages.

So I had to inherit months of worthlessness,

and nights of misery are apportioned to me.

When I lie down, I say, ‘When shall I rise?’

But the night is long,

and I have my fill of tossing until dawn.

My body is clothed with maggots and clods of dust;

my skin hardens, then it gives way again.

“My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,

and they come to an end without hope.

Job 7:1–6 — New International Reader’s Version (1998) (NIrV)

Job continued,

“Doesn’t every man have to work hard on this earth?

Aren’t his days like the days of a hired worker?

I’ve been like a slave

who longs for the evening shadows to come.

I’ve been like a hired worker

who can hardly wait to get paid.

I’ve been given several months that were useless to me.

My nights have been filled with suffering.

When I lie down I think,

‘How long will it be before I can get up?’

The night drags on.

I toss and turn until sunrise.

My body is covered with worms and sores.

My skin is broken. It has boils all over it.

“My days pass by faster than a weaver can work.

They come to an end. I don’t have any hope.

Job 7:1–6 — New American Standard Bible: 1995 Update (NASB95)

“Is not man forced to labor on earth,

And are not his days like the days of a hired man?

“As a slave who pants for the shade,

And as a hired man who eagerly waits for his wages,

So am I allotted months of vanity,

And nights of trouble are appointed me.

When I lie down I say,

When shall I arise?’

But the night continues,

And I am continually tossing until dawn.

“My flesh is clothed with worms and a crust of dirt,

My skin hardens and runs.

“My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,

And come to an end without hope.


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