^4-6 “Tell me, what’s going on, God?
    How long do I have to live?
    Give me the bad news!
You’ve kept me on pretty short rations;
    my life is string too short to be saved.
Oh! we’re all puffs of air.
    Oh! we’re all shadows in a campfire.
Oh! we’re just spit in the wind.
    We make our pile, and then we leave it.

^7-11 “What am I doing in the meantime, Lord?
    Hoping, that’s what I’m doing—hoping
You’ll save me from a rebel life,
    save me from the contempt of dunces.
I’ll say no more, I’ll shut my mouth,
    since you, Lord, are behind all this.
    But I can’t take it much longer.
When you put us through the fire
    to purge us from our sin,
    our dearest idols go up in smoke.
Are we also nothing but smoke?

^12-13 “Ah, God, listen to my prayer, my
    cry—open your ears.
Don’t be callous;
    just look at these tears of mine.
I’m a stranger here. I don’t know my way—
    a migrant like my whole family.
Give me a break, cut me some slack
    before it’s too late and I’m out of here.”