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Job’s Life Seems Futile

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

“As a slave earnestly longs for the shade,
And as a hired man eagerly awaits his wages,

So am I allotted months of futility and suffering,
And [long] nights of trouble and misery are appointed to me.

“When I lie down I say,
‘When shall I arise [and the night be gone]?’
But the night continues,
And I am continually tossing until the dawning of day.

“My body is clothed with worms and a crust of dust;
My skin is hardened [and broken and loathsome], and [breaks out and] runs.

“My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,
And are spent without hope.

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