²³ For all his days are sorrows, and his travail is grief; yes, even in the night his heart takes no rest. This also is vanity.

¹ "Man, who is born of a woman, Is of few days, and full of trouble.

⁷ But man is born to trouble, As the sparks fly upward.

² It is vain for you to rise up early, To stay up late, Eating the bread of toil; For he gives sleep to his loved ones.

¹³ When I say, 'My bed shall comfort me, My couch shall ease my complaint;'

¹⁴ Then you scar me with dreams, And terrify me through visions:

²² confirming the souls of the disciples, exhorting them to continue in the faith, and that through many afflictions we must enter into the Kingdom of God.

¹⁸ Then the king went to his palace, and passed the night fasting; neither were instruments of music brought before him: and his sleep fled from him.

¹² The sleep of a laboring man is sweet, whether he eats little or much; but the abundance of the rich will not allow him to sleep.

¹⁸ For in much wisdom is much grief; and he who increases knowledge increases sorrow.

¹⁵ Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, For as many years as we have seen evil.

⁷ For we are consumed in your anger. We are troubled in your wrath.

⁸ You have set our iniquities before you, Our secret sins in the light of your presence.

⁹ For all our days have passed away in your wrath. We bring our years to an end as a sigh.

¹⁰ The days of our years are seventy, Or even by reason of strength eighty years; Yet their pride is but labor and sorrow, For it passes quickly, and we fly away.

² In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord. My hand was stretched out in the night, and didn't get tired. My soul refused to be comforted.

³ I remember God, and I groan. I complain, and my spirit is overwhelmed. Selah.

⁴ You hold my eyelids open. I am so troubled that I can't speak.

⁴ For day and night your hand was heavy on me. My strength was sapped in the heat of summer. Selah.

⁶ I am weary with my groaning; Every night I flood my bed; I drench my couch with my tears.

⁷ My eye wastes away because of grief; It grows old because of all my adversaries.

¹ On that night the king couldn't sleep; and he commanded to bring the book of records of the chronicles, and they were read before the king.

⁹ Jacob said to Pharaoh, "The days of the years of my pilgrimage are one hundred thirty years. Few and evil have been the days of the years of my life, and they have not attained to the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage."