Job 7

CATHOLIC PUBLIC DOMAIN	NEW JERUSALEM
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 human life on earth just conscript service? Do we not live a hireling's life?
2 Just as a servant desires the shade, and just as the hired hand looks forward to the end of his work,	2 Like a slave, sighing for the shade, or a hireling with no thought but for his wages,
3 so also have I had empty months and have counted my burdensome nights.	3 I have months of futility assigned to me, nights of suffering to be my lot.
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 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.
5 My flesh is clothed with particles of rottenness and filth; my skin is dried up and tightened.	5 Vermin and loathsome scabs cover my body; my skin is cracked and oozes pus.
6 My days have passed by more quickly than threads are cut by a weaver, and they have been consumed without any hope.	6 Swifter than a weaver's shuttle my days have passed, and vanished, leaving no hope behind.
7 Remember that my life is wind, and my eye will not return to see good things.	7 Remember that my life is but a breath, and that my eyes will never again see joy.
8 Neither will the sight of man gaze upon me; your eyes are upon me, and I will not endure.	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.
9 Just as a cloud is consumed and passes away, so he who descends to hell will not ascend.	9 A cloud dissolves and is gone, so no one who goes down to Sheol ever comes up again,
10 He will not return again to his house, nor will his own place know him any longer.	10 ever comes home again, and his house knows that person 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 That is why I cannot keep quiet: in my anguish of spirit I shal speak, in my bitterness of soul I shalcomplain.
12 Am I an ocean or a whale, that you have encircled me in a prison?	12 Am I the Sea, or some sea monster, that you should keep me under guard?
13 If I say, “My bed will comfort me, and I will find rest, speaking with myself on my blanket,”	13 If I say, 'My bed wil comfort me, my couch wil lighten my complaints,'
14 then you will frighten me with dreams, and strike dread through visions,	14 you then frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions,
15 so that, because of these things, my soul would choose hanging, and my bones, death.	15 so that strangling would seem welcome in comparison, yes, death preferable to what I suffer.
16 I despair; by no means will I live any longer. Spare me, for my days are nothing.	16 I am wasting away, my life is not unending; leave me then, 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 are human beings that you should take them so seriously, subjecting them to your scrutiny,
18 You visit him at dawn, and you test him unexpectedly.	18 that morning after morning you should examine them and at every instant test them?
19 How long will you not spare me, nor release me to ingest my saliva?	19 Wil you never take your eyes off me long enough for me to swal ow 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 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?
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 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.