Job 7:1-7 ▼

1 Is not life on earth a drudgery, its days like those of a hireling?

2 Like a slave who longs for the shade, a hireling who waits for wages,

3 So I have been assigned months of futility, and troubled nights have been counted off for me.

4 When I lie down I say, “When shall I arise?” then the night drags on; I am filled with restlessness until the dawn.

5 My flesh is clothed with worms and scabs; my skin cracks and festers;

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

7 Remember that my life is like the wind; my eye will not see happiness again.