Job 7

CATHOLIC PUBLIC DOMAIN	NEW AMERICAN BIBLE
1 The life of a man on the earth is a battle, and his days are like the days of a hired hand.	1 Is not man's life on earth a drudgery? Are not his days those of a hireling?
2 Just as a servant desires the shade, and just as the hired hand looks forward to the end of his work,	2 He is a slave who longs for the shade, a hireling who waits for his wages.
3 so also have I had empty months and have counted my burdensome nights.	3 So I have been assigned months of misery, and troubled nights have been told off for me.
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.	4 If in bed I say, "When shall I arise?" then the night drags on; I am filled with restlessness until the dawn.
5 My flesh is clothed with particles of rottenness and filth; my skin is dried up and tightened.	5 My flesh is clothed with worms and scabs; my skin cracks and festers;
6 My days have passed by more quickly than threads are cut by a weaver, and they have been consumed without any hope.	6 My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle; they come to an end without hope.
7 Remember that my life is wind, and my eye will not return to see good things.	7 Remember that my life is like the wind; I shall not see happiness again.
8 Neither will the sight of man gaze upon me; your eyes are upon me, and I will not endure.	8 The eye that now sees me shall no more behold me; as you look at me, I shall be gone.
9 Just as a cloud is consumed and passes away, so he who descends to hell will not ascend.	9 As a cloud dissolves and vanishes, so he who goes down to the nether world shall come up no more.
10 He will not return again to his house, nor will his own place know him any longer.	10 He shall not again return to his house; his place shall know him no more.
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.	11 My own utterance I will not restrain; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
12 Am I an ocean or a whale, that you have encircled me in a prison?	12 Am I the sea, or a monster of the deep, that you place a watch over me? Why have you set me up as an object of attack; or why should I be a target for you?
13 If I say, “My bed will comfort me, and I will find rest, speaking with myself on my blanket,”	13 When I say, "My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint,"
14 then you will frighten me with dreams, and strike dread through visions,	14 Then you affright me with dreams and with visions terrify me,
15 so that, because of these things, my soul would choose hanging, and my bones, death.	15 So that I should prefer choking and death rather than my pains.
16 I despair; by no means will I live any longer. Spare me, for my days are nothing.	16 I waste away: I cannot live forever; let me alone, for my days are but a breath.
17 What is man, that you should praise him? Or why do you place your heart near him?	17 What is man, that you make much of him, or pay him any heed?
18 You visit him at dawn, and you test him unexpectedly.	18 You observe him with each new day and try him at every moment!
19 How long will you not spare me, nor release me to ingest my saliva?	19 How long will it be before you look away from me, and let me alone long enough to swallow my spittle?
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?	20 Though I have sinned, what can I do to you, O watcher of men?
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.	21 Why do you not pardon my offense, or take away my guilt? For soon I shall lie down in the dust; and should you seek me I shall then be gone.