7 Remember that my life is wind;my eyes won’t see pleasure again.
8 The eye that sees me now will no longer look on me;your eyes will be on me, and I won’t exist.
9 A cloud breaks apart and moves on—like the one who descends to the grave and won’t rise,
10 won’t return home again,won’t be recognized in town anymore.
11 But I won’t keep quiet;I will speak in the adversity of my spirit,groan in the bitterness of my life.
12 Am I Sea or the Sea Monsterthat you place me under guard?
13 If I say, "My couch will comfort me,"my bed will diminish my murmuring.