8Though its root may be old in the earth, and its cut-off end may be dead in the dust;
9Still, at the smell of water, it will make buds, and put out branches like a young plant.
10But man comes to his death and is gone: he gives up his spirit, and where is he?
11The waters go from a pool, and a river becomes waste and dry;
12So man goes down to his last resting-place and comes not again: till the heavens come to an end, they will not be awake or come out of their sleep.
13If only you would keep me safe in the underworld, putting me in a secret place till your wrath is past, giving me a fixed time when I might come to your memory again!
14If death takes a man, will he come to life again? All the days of my trouble I would be waiting, till the time came for me to be free.
