Moff JOB Chapter 7

Has man not a hard service upon earth?

Is not his life like a labourer’s,

a slave who pants for the evening shadow,

a labourer longing for his wages?

I am forced to live empty months,

and nights of misery are allotted me;

I lie down thinking, ‘When will it be day?’

and till the day dawns I toss to and fro.

Worms and a dry crust cover all my flesh;

my skin grows hard, then breaks.

My days go swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,

to reach a hopeless end.

O God, my life is but a breath, remember;

remember, I will never thrive again;

[[Those who see me shall never again see me;

I shall be gone, under thy very gaze.]]

As a cloud fades and disappears,

so he who passes down to death rises no more;

never shall he come home again,

never shall his place know him any more.

Well, I will restrain myself no n longer;

I will speak out, so bitter is my soul.

Am I the sea, am I the Dragon,

to be watched narrowly by thee?

When I think my bed will ease me,

my couch will soothe my complaint,

then thou scarest me with dreams,

appalling me with nightmares,

till I would fain be strangled,

I would prefer death to my pains.

I would not live for ever;

let me alone, my life is frail and fleeting!

What is man, that thou dost make so much of him,

fixing thy mind on him,

punishing him every morning,

testing him moment by moment?

Wilt thou never take thine eye off me,

or leave me for a second?

If I sin, what harm is that to thee,

O thou Spy upon mankind?

Why must thou always find me in thy way,

why vex thyself with me?

Why not forgive my guilt,

why not let my sin pass?

Soon, soon have I to fie down in the dust;

and when thou searchest for me, I shall be no more.”