1. “Does not man have hard labor on earth? Are not his days like those of a hired laborer?
2. Like a slave longing for the shadow, or a hired man waiting for his pay,
3. so I have inherited months of futility, and nights of distress have been appointed to me.
4. When I lay down I say, “When will I rise?” The night drags on, and I toss until the day dawns.
5. My flesh is clothed with maggots and clods of dirt; My skin is broken and festering.
6. My days fly faster than a weaver’s shuttle and come to an end without hope.