Job 7
1 “Isn't life for human beings like serving a sentence of hard labor? Don't their days pass like those of a hired laborer?
Knyythod is lijf of man on erthe, and his daies ben as the daies of an hired man.
2 Like some slave longing for a bit of shade, like a hired hand anxiously waiting for pay day,
As an hert desireth schadowe, and as an hirede man abideth the ende of his werk;
3 I've been given months of emptiness and nights of misery.
so and Y hadde voide monethis, and Y noumbrede trauailous niytes to me.
4 When I go to bed I ask, ‘When shall I get up?’ But the night goes on and on, and I toss and turn until dawn.
If Y schal slepe, Y schal seie, Whanne schal Y rise? and eft Y schal abide the euentid, and Y schal be fillid with sorewis `til to derknessis.
5 My body is covered with maggots and caked in dirt; my skin is cracked, with oozing sores.
Mi fleisch is clothid with rot, and filthis of dust; my skyn driede vp, and is drawun togidere.
6 My days pass quicker than a weaver's shuttle and they come to an end without hope.
My daies passiden swiftliere thanne a web is kit doun `of a webstere; and tho daies ben wastid with outen ony hope.
7 Remember that my life is just a breath; I will not see happiness again.
God, haue thou mynde, for my lijf is wynde, and myn iye schal not turne ayen, that it se goodis.
8 Those watching me won't see me anymore; your eyes will be looking for me, but I will be gone.
Nethir the siyt of man schal biholde me; but thin iyen ben in me, and Y schal not `be in deedli lijf.
9 When a cloud disappears, it's gone, just as anyone who goes down to Sheol does not come back up. (Sheol h7585)
As a cloude is wastid, and passith, so he that goith doun to helle, schal not stie; (Sheol h7585)
10 They will never return home, and the people they knew will forget them.
nether schal turne ayen more in to his hows, and his place schal no more knowe hym.
11 So, no, I won't hold my tongue—I will speak in the agony of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
Wherfor and Y schal not spare my mouth; Y schal speke in the tribulacioun of my spirit, Y schal talke togidere with the bitternesse of my soule.
12 Am I the sea or a sea monster that you have to guard me?
Whether Y am the see, ethir a whal, for thou hast cumpassid me with prisoun?
13 If I tell myself, ‘I'll feel better if I lie down in my bed,’ or ‘it will help me to lie down on my couch,’
If Y seie, My bed schal coumfort me, and Y schal be releeuyd, spekynge with me in my bed;
14 then you scare me so much with dreams and terrify me with visions
thou schalt make me aferd bi dremys, and thou schalt schake me with `orrour, ethir hidousnesse, `bi siytis.
15 that I would rather be strangled—I would rather die than become just a bag of bones.
Wherfor my soule `chees hangyng, and my boonys cheesiden deth.
16 I hate my life! I know I won't live long. Leave me alone because my life is just a breath.
`Y dispeiride, now Y schal no more lyue; Lord, spare thou me, for my daies ben nouyt.
17 Why are human beings so important to you; why are you so concerned about them
What is a man, for thou `magnifiest hym? ether what settist thou thin herte toward hym?
18 that you inspect them every morning and test them every moment? Won't you ever stop staring at me?
Thou visitist hym eerly, and sudeynli thou preuest hym.
19 Won't you ever leave me alone long enough to catch my breath?
Hou long sparist thou not me, nether suffrist me, that Y swolowe my spotele?
20 What have I done wrong? What have I done to you, Watcher of Humanity? Why have you made me your target, so that I'm a burden even to myself?
Y haue synned; A! thou kepere of men, what schal Y do to thee? Whi hast thou set me contrarie to thee, and Y am maad greuouse to my silf?
21 If so why don't you pardon my sins, and take away my guilt? Right now I'm going to lie down in the dust, and though you will look for me, I will be gone.”
Whi doist thou not awei my sinne, and whi takist thou not awei my wickidnesse? Lo! now Y schal slepe in dust, and if thou sekist me eerli, Y schal not abide.
