איוב ז

Truly mortals have a term of service on earth;
Their days are like those of a hireling—

Like a slave who longs for [evening’s] shadows,
Like a hireling who waits to be paid.

So have I been allotted months of futility;
Nights of misery have been apportioned to me.

When I lie down, I think,
“When shall I rise?”
Night drags on,
And I am sated with tossings till morning twilight.

My flesh is covered with maggots and clods of earth;
My skin is broken and festering.

My days fly faster than a weaver’s shuttle,
And come to their end without hope.

Consider that my life is but wind;
I shall never see happiness again.

The eye that gazes on me will not see me;
Your eye will seek me, but I shall be gone.

As a cloud fades away,
So whoever goes down to Sheol does not come up;

They return no more to their home;
Their place does not know them.

On my part, I will not speak with restraint;
I will give voice to the anguish of my spirit;
I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

Am I the sea or the Dragon,
That You have set a watch over me?

When I think, “My bed will comfort me,
My couch will share my sorrow,”

You frighten me with dreams,
And terrify me with visions,

Till I prefer strangulation,
Death, to my wasted frame.

I am sick of it.
I shall not live forever;
Let me be, for my days are a breath.

What are mortals, that You make much of them,
That You fix Your attention upon them?

You inspect them every morning,
Examine them every minute.

Will You not look away from me for a while,
Let me be, till I swallow my spittle?

If I have sinned, what have I done to You,
Watcher of humankind?
Why make of me Your target,
And a burden to myself?

Why do You not pardon my transgression
And forgive my iniquity?
For soon I shall lie down in the dust;
When You seek me, I shall be gone.