ايوب 7

«أَلَيْسَ جِهَادٌ لِلْإِنْسَانِ عَلَى ٱلْأَرْضِ، وَكَأَيَّامِ ٱلْأَجِيرِ أَيَّامُهُ؟ ١ 1
Is there not a warfare to a mortal, upon earth? And, as the days of a hireling, are not his days?
كَمَا يَتَشَوَّقُ ٱلْعَبْدُ إِلَى ٱلظِّلِّ، وَكَمَا يَتَرَجَّى ٱلْأَجِيرُ أُجْرَتَهُ، ٢ 2
As, a bondman, panteth for the shadow, and as, a hireling, longeth for his wage,
هَكَذَا تَعَيَّنَ لِي أَشْهُرُ سُوءٍ، وَلَيَالِي شَقَاءٍ قُسِمَتْ لِي. ٣ 3
So, have I been made to inherit months of calamity, and, nights of weariness, have been appointed me.
إِذَا ٱضْطَجَعْتُ أَقُولُ: مَتَى أَقُومُ؟ ٱللَّيْلُ يَطُولُ، وَأَشْبَعُ قَلَقًا حَتَّى ٱلصُّبْحِ. ٤ 4
As soon as I lie down, I say, When shall I arise? yet he lengtheneth out the evening, and I am wearied with tossings until the breeze of twilight.
لَبِسَ لَحْمِيَ ٱلدُّودُ مَعَ مَدَرِ ٱلتُّرَابِ. جِلْدِي كَرِشَ وَسَاخَ. ٥ 5
My flesh is clothed with worms and a coating of dust, My skin, hath hardened, and then run afresh:
أَيَّامِي أَسْرَعُ مِنَ ٱلْوَشِيعَةِ، وَتَنْتَهِي بِغَيْرِ رَجَاءٍ. ٦ 6
My days, are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and they are spent, without hope.
«اُذْكُرْ أَنَّ حَيَاتِي إِنَّمَا هِيَ رِيحٌ، وَعَيْنِي لَا تَعُودُ تَرَى خَيْرًا. ٧ 7
Remember thou, that, a wind, is my life, not again shall mine eye see blessing:
لَا تَرَانِي عَيْنُ نَاظِرِي. عَيْنَاكَ عَلَيَّ وَلَسْتُ أَنَا. ٨ 8
Nor shall see me—the eye that used to behold me, Thine eyes, are upon me, and I am not.
ٱلسَّحَابُ يَضْمَحِلُّ وَيَزُولُ، هَكَذَا ٱلَّذِي يَنْزِلُ إِلَى ٱلْهَاوِيَةِ لَا يَصْعَدُ. (Sheol h7585) ٩ 9
A cloud faileth, and is gone, So, he that descendeth to hades, shall not come up: (Sheol h7585)
لَا يَرْجِعُ بَعْدُ إِلَى بَيْتِهِ، وَلَا يَعْرِفُهُ مَكَانُهُ بَعْدُ. ١٠ 10
He shall not return again to his house, and his own place shall be acquainted with him no more.
أَنَا أَيْضًا لَا أَمْنَعُ فَمِي. أَتَكَلَّمُ بِضِيقِ رُوحِي. أَشْكُو بِمَرَارَةِ نَفْسِي. ١١ 11
I also, cannot restrain my mouth, —I must speak, in the anguish of my spirit, I must find utterance, in the bitterness of my soul.
أَبَحْرٌ أَنَا أَمْ تِنِّينٌ، حَتَّى جَعَلْتَ عَلَيَّ حَارِسًا؟ ١٢ 12
Am, I, a sea, or a sea-monster, —That thou shouldst set over me a watch?
إِنْ قُلْتُ: فِرَاشِي يُعَزِّينِي، مَضْجَعِي يَنْزِعُ كُرْبَتِي، ١٣ 13
When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall help to carry my complaint,
تُرِيعُنِي بِٱلْأَحْلَامِ، وَتُرْهِبُنِي بِرُؤًى، ١٤ 14
Then thou scarest me with dreams, and, by visions, dost thou terrify me:
فَٱخْتَارَتْ نَفْسِي ٱلْخَنِقَ، ٱلْمَوْتَ عَلَى عِظَامِي هَذِهِ. ١٥ 15
So that my soul chooseth strangling, Death, rather than [these] my bones!
قَدْ ذُبْتُ. لَا إِلَى ٱلْأَبَدِ أَحْيَا. كُفَّ عَنِّي لِأَنَّ أَيَّامِي نَفْخَةٌ. ١٦ 16
I am wasted away, Not, to times age-abiding, can I live, Let me alone, for, a breath, are my days.
مَا هُوَ ٱلْإِنْسَانُ حَتَّى تَعْتَبِرَهُ، وَحَتَّى تَضَعَ عَلَيْهِ قَلْبَكَ؟ ١٧ 17
What is a mortal, that thou shouldst nurture him? Or that thou shouldst fix upon him thy mind?
وَتَتَعَهَّدَهُ كُلَّ صَبَاحٍ، وَكُلَّ لَحْظَةٍ تَمْتَحِنَهُ؟ ١٨ 18
That thou shouldst inspect him morning by morning, moment by moment, shouldst test him?
حَتَّى مَتَى لَا تَلْتَفِتُ عَنِّي وَلَا تُرْخِينِي رَيْثَمَا أَبْلَعُ رِيقِي؟ ١٩ 19
How long wilt thou not look away from me? Wilt thou not let me alone, till I can swallow my spittle?
أَأَخْطَأْتُ؟ مَاذَا أَفْعَلُ لَكَ يَا رَقِيبَ ٱلنَّاسِ؟ لِمَاذَا جَعَلْتَنِي عَاثُورًا لِنَفْسِكَ حَتَّى أَكُونَ عَلَى نَفْسِي حِمْلًا؟ ٢٠ 20
I have sinned, What can I do for thee, thou watcher of men? Wherefore hast thou set me as thine object of attack, or have I become, unto thee, a burden?
وَلِمَاذَا لَا تَغْفِرُ ذَنْبِي، وَلَا تُزِيلُ إِثْمِي؟ لِأَنِّي ٱلْآنَ أَضْطَجِعُ فِي ٱلتُّرَابِ، تَطْلُبُنِي فَلَا أَكُونُ». ٢١ 21
And why wilt thou not remove my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? For, now, in the dust, should I lie down, and thou shouldst seek me diligently, and I should not be.