¹ Man’s life on earth is a thankless job, his days are those of a mercenary.

² Like a slave he longs for the shade of evening,

like a hireling waiting for his wages.

³ Thus I am allotted months of boredom and nights of grief and misery.

⁴ In bed I say, “When shall the day break?”

On rising, I think, “When shall evening come?”

and I toss restless till dawn.

⁵ My body is full of worms and scabs;

my skin festers with its boils and cracks.

⁶ My days pass swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,

heading without hope to their end.

⁷ My life is like wind, you well know it,

O God; never will I see happiness again.

⁸ The eye that saw me will see me no more;

when you look for me, I shall have gone.

⁹ As a cloud dissolves and vanishes,

so he who goes to the grave never returns.

¹⁰ He will never come back to his house;

or be seen by his household.

¹¹ So I will not restrain my words,

I will speak out in anguish;

and complain with embittered soul,

¹² “Am I the sea or a monster of the deep,

that you keep me under watch?”

¹³ When I think my bed will comfort me

and my couch will soothe my pain,

¹⁴ then you frighten me with dreams

and terrify me with visions,

¹⁵ I would prefer death by strangling

rather than such a trial.

¹⁶ See I am dying, never to live again.

Leave me alone; I am finished.

¹⁷ What is man that you make much of him,

that you give him so much attention,

¹⁸ that every morning you examine him

and check him all the time?

¹⁹ Will you never take your eyes off me

and give me respite to swallow my spittle?

²⁰ Suppose I sinned, what has it done to you,

O keeper of humans?

Why choose me as your target?

Have I become a burden to you?

²¹ Why not pardon my sin

and take away my guilt?

For in the dust I will soon lie down;

when you search for me, I shall have gone.