Job 7

1Is there not a warfare to man upon earth? And are not his days like the days of a hireling? 2As a servant who earnestly desires the shadow, and as a hireling who looks for his wages, 3so I am made to possess months of misery, and wearisome nights are appointed to me. 4When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? And I am full of tossing to and fro to the dawning of the day. 5My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust. My skin closes up, and breaks out afresh. 6My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope. 7O remember that my life is a breath. My eye shall no more see good. 8The eye of him who sees me shall behold me no more. Thine eyes shall be upon me, but I shall not be. 9As the cloud is consumed and vanishes away, so he who goes down to Sheol shall come up no more. 10He shall return no more to his house, nor shall his place know him any more. 11Therefore I will not refrain my mouth. I will speak in the anguish of my spirit. I will complain in the bitterness of my soul. 12Am I a sea, or a sea-monster, that thou set a watch over me? 13When I say, My bed shall comfort me. My couch shall ease my complaint. 14Then thou scare me with dreams, and terrify me through visions, 15so that my soul chooses strangling and death rather than these my bones. 16I loathe my life. I would not live always. Let me alone, for my days are vanity. 17What is man, that thou should magnify him, and that thou should set thy mind upon him, 18and that thou should visit him every morning, and try him every moment? 19How long will thou not look away from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle? 20If I have sinned, what do I do to thee, O thou watcher of men? Why have thou set me as a mark for thee, so that I am a burden to myself? 21And why do thou not pardon my transgression, and take away my iniquity? For now I shall lie down in the dust, and thou will seek me diligently, but I shall not be.
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