Chapter 7

[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.

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

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

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

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

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.

[Am] I a sea, or a whale, that thou settest a watch over me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I 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?

And 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].