14 All of us^[a] are born of women,
    have few days, and are full of turmoil.
² Like a flower, we^[b] bloom, then wither,
    flee like a shadow, and don’t last.
(³ Yes, you open your eyes on this one;
    you bring me into trial against you.)
⁴ Who can make pure from impure?
    Nobody.
⁵ If our days are fixed, the number of our months with you,
    you set a statute and we can’t exceed it.
⁶ Look away from us that we may rest,
    until we are satisfied like a worker at day’s end.

⁷ Indeed there is hope for a tree.
    If it’s cut down and still sprouting
    and its shoots don’t fail,
⁸     if its roots age in the ground
        and its stump dies in the dust,
⁹     at the scent of water, it will bud
        and produce sprouts like a plant.
¹⁰ But a human dies and lies there;
    a person expires, and where is he?
¹¹ Water vanishes from the sea;
    a river dries up completely.
¹² But a human lies down and doesn’t rise
        until the heavens cease;
    they don’t get up and awaken from sleep.

¹³ I wish you would hide me in the underworld,^[c]
    conceal me until your anger passes,
    set a time for me, and remember me.
¹⁴ If people die, will they live again?
    All the days of my service I would wait
        until my restoration took place.
¹⁵ You would call, and I would answer you;
    you would long for your handiwork.
¹⁶ Though you now number my steps,
    you would not keep a record of my sin.
¹⁷ My rebellion is sealed in a bag;
    you would cover my sin.

¹⁸ But an eroding mountain breaks up,
    and rock is displaced.
¹⁹ Water wears away boulders;
    floods carry away soil;
    you destroy a people’s hope.
²⁰ You overpower them relentlessly, and they die;
    you change their appearance and send them away.
²¹ Their children achieve honor, and they don’t know it;
    their children become insignificant, and they don’t see it.
²² They only feel the pain of their body,
    and they mourn for themselves.