Job 7

NEW JERUSALEM	CATHOLIC PUBLIC DOMAIN
1 Is not human life on earth just conscript service? Do we not live a hireling's life?	1 The life of a man on the earth is a battle, and his days are like the days of a hired hand.
2 Like a slave, sighing for the shade, or a hireling with no thought but for his wages,	2 Just as a servant desires the shade, and just as the hired hand looks forward to the end of his work,
3 I have months of futility assigned to me, nights of suffering to be my lot.	3 so also have I had empty months and have counted my burdensome nights.
4 Lying in bed I wonder, 'When wil it be day?' No sooner up than, 'When wil evening come?' And crazythoughts obsess me til twilight fal s.	4 If I lie down to sleep, I will say, “When will I rise?” And next I will hope for the evening and will be filled with sorrows even until darkness.
5 Vermin and loathsome scabs cover my body; my skin is cracked and oozes pus.	5 My flesh is clothed with particles of rottenness and filth; my skin is dried up and tightened.
6 Swifter than a weaver's shuttle my days have passed, and vanished, leaving no hope behind.	6 My days have passed by more quickly than threads are cut by a weaver, and they have been consumed without any hope.
7 Remember that my life is but a breath, and that my eyes will never again see joy.	7 Remember that my life is wind, and my eye will not return to see good things.
8 The eye that once saw me wil look on me no more, your eyes wil turn my way, and I shal not be there.	8 Neither will the sight of man gaze upon me; your eyes are upon me, and I will not endure.
9 A cloud dissolves and is gone, so no one who goes down to Sheol ever comes up again,	9 Just as a cloud is consumed and passes away, so he who descends to hell will not ascend.
10 ever comes home again, and his house knows that person no more.	10 He will not return again to his house, nor will his own place know him any longer.
11 That is why I cannot keep quiet: in my anguish of spirit I shal speak, in my bitterness of soul I shalcomplain.	11 And because of this, I will not restrain my mouth. I will speak in the affliction of my spirit. I will converse from the bitterness of my soul.
12 Am I the Sea, or some sea monster, that you should keep me under guard?	12 Am I an ocean or a whale, that you have encircled me in a prison?
13 If I say, 'My bed wil comfort me, my couch wil lighten my complaints,'	13 If I say, “My bed will comfort me, and I will find rest, speaking with myself on my blanket,”
14 you then frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions,	14 then you will frighten me with dreams, and strike dread through visions,
15 so that strangling would seem welcome in comparison, yes, death preferable to what I suffer.	15 so that, because of these things, my soul would choose hanging, and my bones, death.
16 I am wasting away, my life is not unending; leave me then, for my days are but a breath.	16 I despair; by no means will I live any longer. Spare me, for my days are nothing.
17 What are human beings that you should take them so seriously, subjecting them to your scrutiny,	17 What is man, that you should praise him? Or why do you place your heart near him?
18 that morning after morning you should examine them and at every instant test them?	18 You visit him at dawn, and you test him unexpectedly.
19 Wil you never take your eyes off me long enough for me to swal ow my spittle?	19 How long will you not spare me, nor release me to ingest my saliva?
20 Suppose I have sinned, what have I done to you, you tireless watcher of humanity? Why do youchoose me as your target? Why should I be a burden to you?	20 I have sinned; what should I do for you, O keeper of men? Why have you set me against you, so that I have become burdensome even to myself?
21 Can you not tolerate my sin, not overlook my fault? For soon I shal be lying in the dust, you wil lookfor me and I shal be no more.	21 Why do you not steal away my sin, and why do you not sweep away my iniquity? Behold, now I will sleep in the dust, and if you seek me in the morning, I will not remain.