1 Is there not a warfare to man upon earth? and are not his days like the days of an hireling?
2 As a servant that earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling that looketh for his wages:
3 So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me.
4 When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise? but the night is long; and I am full of tossings to and fro unto the dawning of the day.
5 My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin closeth up and breaketh out afresh.
6 My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.