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.
7 Oh remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good.
8 The eye of him that seeth me shall behold me no more: thine eyes shall be upon me, but I shall not be.
9 As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away, so he that goeth down to Sheol shall come up no more.