|
1 Is there not a warfare to man on earth? And as the days of an hireling his days? 2 As a servant desireth the shadow, And as a hireling expecteth his wage, 3 So I have been caused to inherit months of vanity, And nights of misery they numbered to me. 4 If I lay down then I said, 'When do I rise!' And evening hath been measured, And I have been full of tossings till dawn. 5 Clothed hath been my flesh with worms, And a clod of dust, My skin hath been shrivelled and is loathsome, 6 My days swifter than a weaving machine, And they are consumed without hope. 7 Remember Thou that my life is a breath, Mine eye turneth not back to see good. Job 7:1-7, Young's Literal Translation. Public domain.
|
