1. The life of man upon earth is a warfare, and his days are like the days of a hireling.
2. As a servant longeth for the shade, as the hireling looketh for the end of his work;
3. So I also have had empty months, and have numbered to myself wearisome nights.
4. If I lie down to sleep, I shall say: When shall arise? and again I shall look for the evening, and shall be filled with sorrows even till darkness.
5. My flesh is clothed with rottenness and the filth of dust, my skin is withered and drawn together.
6. My days have passed more swiftly than the web is cut by the weaver, and are consumed without any hope.