Job 7
Job’s Life Seems Futile
And are not his days like the days of a hired man?
And as a hired man who eagerly waits for his wages,
And nights of trouble are appointed me.
‘When shall I arise?’
But the night continues,
And I am continually tossing until dawn.
My skin hardens and runs.
And come to an end without hope.
My eye will not again see good.
Your eyes will be on me, but I will not be.
So he who goes down to Sheol does not come up.
Nor will his place know him anymore.
I will speak in the anguish of my spirit,
I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
That You set a guard over me?
My couch will ease my complaint,’
And terrify me by visions;
Death rather than my pains.
Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath.
And that You are concerned about him,
And try him every moment?
Nor let me alone until I swallow my spittle?
O watcher of men?
Why have You set me as Your target,
So that I am a burden to myself?
And take away my iniquity?
For now I will lie down in the dust;
And You will seek me, but I will not be.”