^{3 Ref} So I have for my heritage months of pain to no purpose, and nights of weariness are given to me.

^{4 Ref} 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 Ref} My flesh is covered with worms and dust; my skin gets hard and then is cracked again.

^{6 Ref} My days go quicker than the cloth-worker's thread, and come to an end without hope.

^{7 Ref} O, keep in mind that my life is wind: my eye will never again see good.