1 Is not life on earth a drudgery,its days like those of a hireling?
2 Like a slave who longs for the shade,a hireling who waits for wages,
3 So I have been assigned months of futility,and troubled nights have been counted off for me.
4 When I lie down I say, “When shall I arise?”then the night drags on;I am filled with restlessness until the dawn.
5 My flesh is clothed with worms and scabs;my skin cracks and festers;
6 My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle;they come to an end without hope.