7 “Human life on earth is like serving in the army;
yes, we drudge through our days like a hired worker,
² like a slave longing for shade,
like a worker thinking only of his wages.
³ So I am assigned months of meaninglessness;
troubled nights are my lot.
⁴ When I lie down, I ask,
‘When can I get up?’
But the night is long, and I keep tossing
to and fro until daybreak.
⁵ My flesh is clothed with worms and dirt,
my skin forms scabs that ooze pus.
⁶ My days pass more swiftly than a weaver’s shuttle
and come to their end without hope.

⁷ “Remember that my life is but a breath;
my eyes will never again see good times.
⁸ The eye that now sees me will see me no more;
while your eyes are on me, I will be gone.
⁹ Like a cloud dissolving and disappearing,
so he who descends to Sh’ol won’t come back up.
¹⁰ He will not return again to his house,
and his home will know him no more.

¹¹ “Therefore I will not restrain my mouth
but will speak in my anguish of spirit
and complain in my bitterness of soul.
¹² Am I the sea, or some sea monster,
that you put a guard over me?
¹³ When I think that my bed will comfort me,
that my couch will relieve my complaint,
¹⁴ then you terrify me with dreams
and frighten me with visions.
¹⁵ I would rather be strangled;
death would be better than these bones of mine.
¹⁶ I hate it! I won’t live forever,
so leave me alone, for my life means nothing.

¹⁷ “What are mere mortals, that you make so much of them?
Why do you keep them on your mind?
¹⁸ Why examine them every morning
and test them every moment?
¹⁹ Won’t you ever take your eyes off of me,
at least long enough for me to swallow my spit?

²⁰ “Suppose I do sin — how do I harm you,
you scrutinizer of humanity?
Why have you made me your target,
so that I am a burden to you?
²¹ Why don’t you pardon my offense
and take away my guilt?
For soon I will lie down in the dust;
you will seek me, but I will be gone.”