7 Job: Don’t we humans struggle long and hard in our time on earth?
        Don’t we live our lives as common laborers?
²     As slaves longing for shade,
        as workers pining for wages,
³     So I am destined to receive only months of meaninglessness,
        and nights of nothing but misery.
⁴     When I lie down at the end of day, I wonder,
        “How soon till morning so I can arise?”
    But the night stretches on,
        and I toss and turn until sunrise.
⁵     My putrid skin is covered with maggots and a dirty crust.
        It hardens and cracks and oozes again.
⁶     My days whisk by swifter than the shuttle in a weaver’s loom—
        back and forth, and back and forth—
        and then they come to their hopeless end.
⁷     My life, remember, is just a breath;
        in death no more good will reach my eye.
⁸     Whoever sees me now, will not for long;
        you’ll look for me, but I’ll be gone.
⁹     As clouds thin and finally vanish,
        so it is when people enter the land of the dead.
    Never will they come back up.
¹⁰     Never will they return to their homes
        or will the place they lived recognize them anymore.

¹¹     Like Eliphaz, I will not keep silent.
        In the agony of my spirit, I will speak;
    In the bitterness of my soul, I will complain.
¹²     Am I the raging sea, or the monster of the deep,
        so threatening you must appoint a guard over me?
¹³     When I think my couch will comfort me
        or my bed will soften my complaint,
¹⁴     You, Lord, intimidate me with dreams
        and terrorize me with visions.
¹⁵     I’d rather be suffocated, even dead,
        than live in these aching bones of mine.

¹⁶ Job: I hate my life. I have no desire to keep on living.
        Leave me alone, God, for I have only a short time left.
¹⁷     What are these human beings, that You make so much of them—
        that You shower them with attention?
¹⁸     You examine them morning by morning;
        You test them moment by moment.
¹⁹     How long will You stare at me?
        I can’t even clear my throat of spit without an audience.
²⁰     I have sinned. What have I done to You,
        You who watch after humanity?
    Why have You targeted me, a man whose life is just a breath?
        Am I really such a heavy load for You?
²¹     So I’ve sinned inadvertently: can’t You pardon me?
        Are my crimes such You can’t forgive my sins?
    After all, I will lie in the dust, and it won’t be long
        until You will look for me, but I’ll be gone.