Jobin kirjaLuku 7

Tämä luku ei ole vielä saatavilla suomeksi — näytetään alkuperäinen teksti.

Is not the life of a mortal on earth a hard service? Are not his days like the days of a hired laborer?
Like a slave longing for the shade, like a hired hand waiting for his wages,
so I have been allotted months of emptiness, and nights of misery have been assigned to me.
When I lie down I ask, "When will I get up?" But the night drags on, and I am filled with tossing until dawn.
My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin scabs over and oozes.
My days pass more swiftly than a weaver's shuttle, and they come to an end without hope.
Remember that my life is but a breath; my eye will never again see anything good.
The eye that now sees me will see me no more; your eyes will turn toward me, but I will be gone.
As a cloud fades and vanishes, so the one who goes down to the grave does not come up again.
He never returns to his house; his place knows him no more.
So I, for my part, will not restrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit, I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
Am I the sea, or a sea monster, that you set a guard over me?
When I think my bed will comfort me and my couch will ease my complaint,
then you terrify me with dreams and horrify me with visions,
so that I would choose strangling and death rather than this body of mine.
I despise my life; I would not live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are a breath.
What is a mortal, that you make so much of him, that you set your heart upon him,
that you examine him every morning and test him every moment?
Will you never look away from me, or let me alone long enough to swallow my spit?
If I have sinned, what can I do to you, you watcher of mankind? Why have you made me your target, so that I have become a burden to myself?
Why do you not pardon my offense and take away my guilt? For soon I will lie down in the dust; you will search for me, and I will be no more.