¹² My resting-place is pulled up and taken away from me like a herdsman's tent: my life is rolled up like a linen-worker's thread; I am cut off from the cloth on the frame: from day even to night you give me up to pain.

¹² They will be rolled up like a cloth, even like a robe, and they will be changed: but you are the same and your years will have no end.

¹ For we are conscious that if this our tent of flesh is taken down, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal, in heaven.

¹⁴ For I have been troubled all the day; every morning have I undergone punishment.

¹³ And it seems right to me, as long as I am in this tent of flesh, to keep your minds awake by working on your memory;

¹⁴ For I am conscious that in a short time I will have to put off this tent of flesh, as our Lord Jesus Christ has made clear to me.

¹⁴ When you are not certain what will take place tomorrow. What is your life? It is a mist, which is seen for a little time and then is gone.

⁴ For truly, we who are in this tent do give out cries of weariness, for the weight of care which is on us; not because we are desiring to be free from the body, but so that we may have our new body, and death may be overcome by life.

²⁰ People will never be living in it again, and it will have no more men from generation to generation: the Arab will not put up his tent there; and those who keep sheep will not make it a resting-place for their flocks.

⁸ And the daughter of Zion has become like a tent in a vine-garden, like a watchman's house in a field of fruit, like a town shut in by armies.

²³ Rulers make evil designs against me; but your servant gives thought to your rules.

²³ He has taken my strength from me in the way; he has made short my days.

²⁴ I will say, O my God, take me not away before my time; your years go on through all generations:

¹¹ My days are like a shade which is stretched out; I am dry like the grass.

⁴⁵ You have made him old before his time; he is covered with shame. (Selah.)

⁴⁶ How long, O Lord, will you Keep yourself for ever from our eyes? how long will your wrath be burning like fire?

⁴⁷ See how short my time is; why have you made all men for no purpose?

²² And as for me, I said in my fear, I am cut off from before your eyes; but you gave ear to the voice of my prayer, when my cry went up to you.

¹ My spirit is broken, my days are ended, the last resting-place is ready for me.

² He comes out like a flower, and is cut down: he goes in flight like a shade, and is never seen again.

²⁵ My days go quicker than a post-runner: they go in flight, they see no good.

²⁶ They go rushing on like reed-boats, like an eagle dropping suddenly on its food.

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.

⁹ If only he would be pleased to put an end to me; and would let loose his hand, so that I might be cut off!

²⁰ Between morning and evening they are completely broken; they come to an end for ever, and no one takes note.