[1] Isn’t slavery everyone’s condition on earth, our days like those of a hired worker? [2] Like a slave we pant for a shadow, await our task like a hired worker. [3] So I have inherited months of emptiness; nights of toil have been measured out for me. [4] If I lie down and think—When will I get up?—night drags on, and restless thoughts fill me until dawn. [5] My flesh is covered with worms and crusted earth; my skin hardens and oozes. [6] My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle; they reach their end without hope. [7] Remember that my life is wind; my eyes won’t see pleasure again. [8] The eye that sees me now will no longer look on me; your eyes will be on me, and I won’t exist. [9] A cloud breaks apart and moves on—like the one who descends to the grave and won’t rise, [10] won’t return home again, won’t be recognized in town anymore. [11] But I won’t keep quiet; I will speak in the adversity of my spirit, groan in the bitterness of my life. [12] Am I Sea or the Sea Monster that you place me under guard? [13] If I say, “My couch will comfort me,” my bed will diminish my murmuring. [14] You scare me with dreams, frighten me with visions. [15] I would choose strangling and death instead of my bones. [16] I reject life; I don’t want to live long; leave me alone, for my days are empty. [17] What are human beings, that you exalt them, that you take note of them, [18] visit them each morning, test them every moment? [19] Why not look away from me; let me alone until I swallow my spit? [20] If I sinned, what did I do to you, guardian of people? Why have you made me your target so that I’m a burden to myself? [21] Why not forgive my sin, overlook my iniquity? Then I would lie down in the dust; you would search hard for me, and I would not exist.
