1 Is there not a warfare to man upon earth? And are not his days like the days of a hireling?
2 As a servant that earnestly desireth the shadow, And as a hireling that looketh for his wages:
3 So am I made to possess months of misery, And wearisome nights are appointed to me.
4 When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? And I am full of tossings to and fro unto the dawning of the day.
5 My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; My skin closeth up, and breaketh out afresh.
6 My days are swifter than a weaver`s shuttle, And are spent without hope.
7 Oh remember that my life is a breath: Mine eye shall no more see good.
