²⁵ My days have been swifter than a runner, They have fled, they have not seen good,

⁶ My days swifter than a weaving machine, And they are consumed without hope.

⁷ Remember Thou that my life `is' a breath, Mine eye turneth not back to see good.

⁹ For all our days pined away in Thy wrath, We consumed our years as a meditation.

¹⁰ Days of our years, in them `are' seventy years, And if, by reason of might, eighty years, Yet `is' their enlargement labour and vanity, For it hath been cut off hastily, and we fly away.

¹⁴ who do not know the thing of the morrow; for what is your life? for it is a vapour that is appearing for a little, and then is vanishing;

¹⁴ The runners, riding on the dromedary, `and' the mules, have gone out, hastened and pressed by the word of the king, and the law hath been given in Shushan the palace.

⁵ Lo, handbreadths Thou hast made my days, And mine age `is' as nothing before Thee, Only, all vanity `is' every man set up. Selah.

¹¹ With reproofs against iniquity, Thou hast corrected man, And dost waste as a moth his desirableness, Only, vanity `is' every man. Selah.

⁴⁷ Remember, I pray Thee, what `is' life-time? Wherefore in vain hast Thou created All the sons of men?