Job 7
1 Is there not a war-service for man on the earth? Are not his days as the days of a hireling?
Militia est vita hominis super terram: et sicut dies mercenarii, dies eius.
2 As a servant panteth for the shade, And as a hireling looketh for his wages,
Sicut servus desiderat umbram, et sicut mercenarius præstolatur finem operis sui:
3 So am I made to possess months of affliction, And wearisome nights are appointed for me.
Sic et ego habui menses vacuos, et noctes laboriosas enumeravi mihi.
4 If I lie down, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? And I am full of restlessness until the dawning of the day.
Si dormiero, dicam: Quando consurgam? et rursum expectabo vesperam, et replebor doloribus usque ad tenebras.
5 My flesh is clothed with worms, and clods of dust; My skin is broken and become loathsome.
Induta est caro mea putredine et sordibus pulveris, cutis mea aruit, et contracta est.
6 My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle; They pass away without hope.
Dies mei velocius transierunt quam a texente tela succiditur, et consumpti sunt absque ulla spe.
7 O remember that my life is a breath; That mine eye shall no more see good!
Memento quia ventus est vita mea, et non revertetur oculus meus ut videat bona.
8 The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more; Thine eyes shall look for me, but I shall not be.
Nec aspiciet me visus hominis: oculi tui in me, et non subsistam.
9 As the cloud dissolveth and wasteth away, So he that goeth down to the grave shall arise no more; (Sheol h7585)
Sicut consumitur nubes, et pertransit: sic qui descenderit ad inferos, non ascendet. (Sheol h7585)
10 No more shall he return to his house, And his dwelling-place shall know him no more.
Nec revertetur ultra in domum suam, neque cognoscet eum amplius locus eius.
11 Therefore I will not restrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
Quapropter et ego non parcam ori meo, loquar in tribulatione spiritus mei: confabulabor cum amaritudine animæ meæ.
12 Am I a sea, or a sea-monster, That thou settest a watch over me?
Numquid mare ego sum, aut cetus, quia circumdedisti me carcere?
13 When I say, My bed shall relieve me, My couch shall ease my complaint,
Si dixero: Consolabitur me lectulus meus, et relevabor loquens mecum in strato meo:
14 Then thou scarest me with dreams, And terrifiest me with visions;
Terrebis me per somnia, et per visiones horrore concuties.
15 So that my soul chooseth strangling, Yea, death, rather than these my bones.
Quam ob rem elegit suspendium anima mea, et mortem ossa mea.
16 I am wasting away; I shall not live alway: Let me alone, for my days are a vapor!
Desperavi, nequaquam ultra iam vivam: parce mihi, nihil enim sunt dies mei.
17 What is man, that thou shouldst make great account him, And fix thy mind upon him?—
Quid est homo, quia magnificas eum? aut quid apponis erga eum cor tuum?
18 That thou shouldst visit him every morning, And prove him every moment?
Visitas eum diluculo, et subito probas illum:
19 How long ere thou wilt look away from me, And let me alone, till I have time to breathe?
Usquequo non parcis mihi, nec dimittis me ut glutiam salivam meam?
20 If I have sinned, what have I done to thee, O thou watcher of men! Why hast thou set me up as thy mark, So that I have become a burden to myself?
Peccavi, quid faciam tibi o custos hominum? quare posuisti me contrarium tibi, et factus sum mihimetipsi gravis?
21 And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, And take away mine iniquity? For soon shall I sleep in the dust; And, though thou seek me diligently, I shall not be.
Cur non tollis peccatum meum, et quare non aufers iniquitatem meam? ecce, nunc in pulvere dormiam: et si mane me quæsieris, non subsistam.
