| 1 Man’s life on earth is a thankless job, his days are those of a mercenary. | |
| 2 Like a slave he longs for the shade of evening, like a hireling waiting for his wages. | |
| 3 Thus I am allotted months of boredom and nights of grief and misery. | |
| 4 In bed I say, “When shall the day break?” On rising, I think, “When shall evening come?” and I toss restless till dawn. | |
| 5 My body is full of worms and scabs; my skin festers with its boils and cracks. | |
| 6 My days pass swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, heading without hope to their end. | |
| 7 My life is like wind, you well know it, O God; never will I see happiness again. | |
| 8 The eye that saw me will see me no more; when you look for me, I shall have gone. | |
| 9 As a cloud dissolves and vanishes, so he who goes to the grave never returns. | |
| 10 He will never come back to his house; or be seen by his household. | |
| 11 So I will not restrain my words, I will speak out in anguish; and complain with embittered soul, | |
| 12 “Am I the sea or a monster of the deep, that you keep me under watch?” | |
| 13 When I think my bed will comfort me and my couch will soothe my pain, | |
| 14 then you frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions, | |
| 15 I would prefer death by strangling rather than such a trial. | |
| 16 See I am dying, never to live again. Leave me alone; I am finished. | |
| 17 What is man that you make much of him, that you give him so much attention, | |
| 18 that every morning you examine him and check him all the time? | |
| 19 Will you never take your eyes off me and give me respite to swallow my spittle? | |
| 20 Suppose I sinned, what has it done to you, O keeper of humans? Why choose me as your target? Have I become a burden to you? | |
| 21 Why not pardon my sin and take away my guilt? For in the dust I will soon lie down; when you search for me, I shall have gone. | |
