³ So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me.

⁴ When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? and I am full of tossings to and fro unto the dawning of the day.

⁵ My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and become loathsome.

⁶ My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.