[1] “Is not all human life a struggle? Our lives are like that of a hired hand,
[2] like a worker who longs for the shade, like a servant waiting to be paid.
[3] I, too, have been assigned months of futility, long and weary nights of misery.
[4] Lying in bed, I think, ‘When will it be morning?’ But the night drags on, and I toss till dawn.
[5] My body is covered with maggots and scabs. My skin breaks open, oozing with pus.
[6] “My days fly faster than a weaver’s shuttle. They end without hope.
[7] O God, remember that my life is but a breath, and I will never again feel happiness.
[8] You see me now, but not for long. You will look for me, but I will be gone.
[9] Just as a cloud dissipates and vanishes, those who die will not come back.
[10] They are gone forever from their home— never to be seen again.
[11] “I cannot keep from speaking. I must express my anguish. My bitter soul must complain.
[12] Am I a sea monster or a dragon that you must place me under guard?
[13] I think, ‘My bed will comfort me, and sleep will ease my misery,’
[14] but then you shatter me with dreams and terrify me with visions.
[15] I would rather be strangled— rather die than suffer like this.
[16] I hate my life and don’t want to go on living. Oh, leave me alone for my few remaining days.
[17] “What are people, that you should make so much of us, that you should think of us so often?
[18] For you examine us every morning and test us every moment.
[19] Why won’t you leave me alone, at least long enough for me to swallow!
[20] If I have sinned, what have I done to you, O watcher of all humanity? Why make me your target? Am I a burden to you?
[21] Why not just forgive my sin and take away my guilt? For soon I will lie down in the dust and die. When you look for me, I will be gone.”