Job 7

¹Is there not a warfare to man on earth? And as the days of an hireling his days? ²As a servant desireth the shadow, And as a hireling expecteth his wage, ³So I have been caused to inherit months of vanity, And nights of misery they numbered to me. ⁴If I lay down then I said, ‘When do I rise!’ And evening hath been measured, And I have been full of tossings till dawn. ⁵Clothed hath been my flesh with worms, And a clod of dust, My skin hath been shrivelled and is loathsome, ⁶My days swifter than a weaving machine, And they are consumed without hope.

⁷Remember Thou that my life is a breath, Mine eye turneth not back to see good. ⁸The eye of my beholder beholdeth me not. Thine eyes are upon me—and I am not. ⁹Consumed hath been a cloud, and it goeth, So he who is going down to Sheol cometh not up. ¹⁰He turneth not again to his house, Nor doth his place discern him again. ¹¹Also I—I withhold not my mouth—I speak in the distress of my spirit, I talk in the bitterness of my soul. ¹²A sea -monster am I, or a dragon, That thou settest over me a guard? ¹³When I said, ‘My bed doth comfort me,’ He taketh away in my talking my couch. ¹⁴And thou hast affrighted me with dreams, And from visions thou terrifiest me, ¹⁵And my soul chooseth strangling, Death rather than my bones. ¹⁶I have wasted away—not to the age do I live. Cease from me, for my days are vanity.

¹⁷What is man that Thou dost magnify him? And that Thou settest unto him Thy heart? ¹⁸And inspectest him in the mornings, In the evenings dost try him? ¹⁹How long dost Thou not look from me? Thou dost not desist till I swallow my spittle. ²⁰I have sinned, what do I to Thee, O watcher of man? Why hast Thou set me for a mark to Thee, And I am for a burden to myself—and what? ²¹Thou dost not take away my transgression, And cause to pass away mine iniquity, Because now, for dust I lie down: And Thou hast sought me—and I am not!

Chapter 8