Job 7
1 Has not man his ordered time of trouble on the earth? and are not his days like the days of a servant working for payment?
“Isn't life for human beings like serving a sentence of hard labor? Don't their days pass like those of a hired laborer?
2 As a servant desiring the shades of evening, and a workman looking for his payment:
Like some slave longing for a bit of shade, like a hired hand anxiously waiting for pay day,
3 So I have for my heritage months of pain to no purpose, and nights of weariness are given to me.
I've been given months of emptiness and nights of misery.
4 When I go to my bed, I say, When will it be time to get up? but the night is long, and I am turning from side to side till morning light.
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.
5 My flesh is covered with worms and dust; my skin gets hard and then is cracked again.
My body is covered with maggots and caked in dirt; my skin is cracked, with oozing sores.
6 My days go quicker than the cloth-worker's thread, and come to an end without hope.
My days pass quicker than a weaver's shuttle and they come to an end without hope.
7 O, keep in mind that my life is wind: my eye will never again see good.
Remember that my life is just a breath; I will not see happiness again.
8 The eye of him who sees me will see me no longer: your eyes will be looking for me, but I will be gone.
Those watching me won't see me anymore; your eyes will be looking for me, but I will be gone.
9 A cloud comes to an end and is gone; so he who goes down into the underworld comes not up again. (Sheol h7585)
When a cloud disappears, it's gone, just as anyone who goes down to Sheol does not come back up. (Sheol h7585)
10 He will not come back to his house, and his place will have no more knowledge of him.
They will never return home, and the people they knew will forget them.
11 So I will not keep my mouth shut; I will let the words come from it in the pain of my spirit, my soul will make a bitter outcry.
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.
12 Am I a sea, or a sea-beast, that you put a watch over me?
Am I the sea or a sea monster that you have to guard me?
13 When I say, In my bed I will have comfort, there I will get rest from my disease;
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,’
14 Then you send dreams to me, and visions of fear;
then you scare me so much with dreams and terrify me with visions
15 So that a hard death seems better to my soul than my pains.
that I would rather be strangled—I would rather die than become just a bag of bones.
16 I have no desire for life, I would not be living for ever! Keep away from me, for my days are as a breath.
I hate my life! I know I won't live long. Leave me alone because my life is just a breath.
17 What is man, that you have made him great, and that your attention is fixed on him,
Why are human beings so important to you; why are you so concerned about them
18 And that your hand is on him every morning, and that you are testing him every minute?
that you inspect them every morning and test them every moment? Won't you ever stop staring at me?
19 How long will it be before your eyes are turned away from me, so that I may have a minute's breathing-space?
Won't you ever leave me alone long enough to catch my breath?
20 If I have done wrong, what have I done to you, O keeper of men? why have you made me a mark for your blows, so that I am a weariness to myself?
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?
21 And why do you not take away my sin, and let my wrongdoing be ended? for now I go down to the dust, and you will be searching for me with care, but I will be gone.
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.”
