1 Has not man his ordered time of trouble on the earth? and are not his days like the days of a servant working for payment?
2 As a servant desiring the shades of evening, and a workman looking for his payment:
3 So I have for my heritage months of pain to no purpose, and nights of weariness are given to me.
4 When I go to my bed, I say, When will it be time to get up? but the night is long, and I am turning from side to side till morning light.
5 My flesh is covered with worms and dust; my skin gets hard and then is cracked again.
6 My days go quicker than the cloth-worker's thread, and come to an end without hope.
7 O, keep in mind that my life is wind: my eye will never again see good.
