²⁰ Are not the days of my life small in number? Let your eyes be turned away from me, so that I may have a little pleasure,

¹ As for man, the son of woman, his days are short and full of trouble.

¹³ Let your wrath be turned away from me, so that I may be comforted, before I go away from here, and become nothing.

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.

¹⁶ I have no desire for life, I would not be living for ever! Keep away from me, for my days are as a breath.

¹⁷ What is man, that you have made him great, and that your attention is fixed on him,

¹⁸ And that your hand is on him every morning, and that you are testing him every minute?

¹⁹ How long will it be before your eyes are turned away from me, so that I may have a minute's breathing-space?

²⁰ If I have done wrong, what have I done to you, O keeper of men? why have you made me a mark for your blows, so that I am a weariness to myself?

²¹ And why do you not take away my sin, and let my wrongdoing be ended? for now I go down to the dust, and you will be searching for me with care, but I will be gone.

⁹ (For we are but of yesterday, and have no knowledge, because our days on earth are gone like a shade:)

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.

²¹ Take your hand far away from me; and let me not be overcome by fear of you.

⁵ You have made my days no longer than a hand's measure; and my years are nothing in your eyes; truly, every man is but a breath. (Selah.)

¹⁵ As for man, his days are as grass: his beautiful growth is like the flower of the field.

¹⁶ The wind goes over it and it is gone; and its place sees it no longer.