Job 7:1-7 ▼

1 “Is not man conscripted to labor on earth, And are not his days like the days of a hired man?

2 As a slave who pants for the shade, And as a hired man who eagerly hopes for his wages,

3 So am I apportioned months of worthlessness, And nights of trouble are appointed me.

4 If I lie down I say, ‘When shall I arise?’ But the twilight continues, And I am saturated with tossing until dawn.

5 My flesh is clothed with worms and a crust of dirt; My skin scabs over and flows out again.

6 My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, And come to an end without hope.

7 “Remember that my life is but wind; My eye will not again see good.