Psalm 90:3–10

You return man to dust

and say, “Return, O children of man!”

For a thousand years in your sight

are but as yesterday when it is past,

or as a watch in the night.

You sweep them away as with a flood; they are like a dream,

like grass that is renewed in the morning:

in the morning it flourishes and is renewed;

in the evening it fades and withers.

For we are brought to an end by your anger;

by your wrath we are dismayed.

You have set our iniquities before you,

our secret sins in the light of your presence.

For all our days pass away under your wrath;

we bring our years to an end like a sigh.

The years of our life are seventy,

or even by reason of strength eighty;

yet their span is but toil and trouble;

they are soon gone, and we fly away.

You turn people back to dust,

saying, “Return to dust, you mortals.”

A thousand years in your sight

are like a day that has just gone by,

or like a watch in the night.

Yet you sweep people away in the sleep of death—

they are like the new grass of the morning:

In the morning it springs up new,

but by evening it is dry and withered.

We are consumed by your anger

and terrified by your indignation.

You have set our iniquities before you,

our secret sins in the light of your presence.

All our days pass away under your wrath;

we finish our years with a moan.

Our days may come to seventy years,

or eighty, if our strength endures;

yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow,

for they quickly pass, and we fly away.

You return mankind to the dust,

saying, “Return, descendants of Adam.”

For in your sight a thousand years

are like yesterday that passes by,

like a few hours of the night.

You end their lives; they sleep.

They are like grass that grows in the morning—

in the morning it sprouts and grows;

by evening it withers and dries up.

For we are consumed by your anger;

we are terrified by your wrath.

You have set our iniquities before you,

our secret sins in the light of your presence.

For all our days ebb away under your wrath;

we end our years like a sigh.

Our lives last seventy years

or, if we are strong, eighty years.

Even the best of them are struggle and sorrow;

indeed, they pass quickly and we fly away.

You turn people back to dust, saying,

“Return to dust, you mortals!”

For you, a thousand years are as a passing day,

as brief as a few night hours.

You sweep people away like dreams that disappear.

They are like grass that springs up in the morning.

In the morning it blooms and flourishes,

but by evening it is dry and withered.

We wither beneath your anger;

we are overwhelmed by your fury.

You spread out our sins before you—

our secret sins—and you see them all.

We live our lives beneath your wrath,

ending our years with a groan.

Seventy years are given to us!

Some even live to eighty.

But even the best years are filled with pain and trouble;

soon they disappear, and we fly away.

You return man to the dust,

saying, “Return, O sons of man.”

For a thousand years in your eyes

are like yesterday when it passes,

or like a watch in the night.

You sweep them away like a flood.

They fall asleep.

In the morning they are like grass that sprouts anew.

In the morning it blossoms and sprouts anew;

by evening it withers and dries up.

For we are brought to an end by your anger,

and we hasten off by your wrath.

You have put our iniquities before you,

our hidden sins into the light of your countenance.

For all of our days dwindle away in your rage;

we complete our years like a sigh.

As for the days of our years, within them are seventy years

or if by strength eighty years, and their pride is trouble and disaster,

for it passes quickly and we fly away.

Thou turnest man to destruction;

And sayest, Return, ye children of men.

For a thousand years in thy sight

Are but as yesterday when it is past,

And as a watch in the night.

Thou carriest them away as with a flood; they are as a sleep:

In the morning they are like grass which groweth up.

In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up;

In the evening it is cut down, and withereth.

For we are consumed by thine anger,

And by thy wrath are we troubled.

Thou hast set our iniquities before thee,

Our secret sins in the light of thy countenance.

For all our days are passed away in thy wrath:

We spend our years as a tale that is told.

The days of our years are threescore years and ten;

And if by reason of strength they be fourscore years,

Yet is their strength labour and sorrow;

For it is soon cut off, and we fly away.