Jb 7 (King James)

   ¹ Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? are not his days also like the days of an hireling? ² As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling looketh for the reward of his work: 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, and the night be gone? 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 is broken, and become loathsome. ⁶ My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.
   ⁷ O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good. ⁸ The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not. ⁹ As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away: so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more. ¹⁰ He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him any more. ¹¹ Therefore I will not refrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul. ¹² Am I a sea, or a whale, that thou settest a watch over me? ¹³ When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaints; ¹⁴ Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions: ¹⁵ So that my soul chooseth strangling, and death rather than my life. ¹⁶ I loathe it; I would not live alway: let me alone; for my days are vanity.
   ¹⁷ What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him? ¹⁸ And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, and try him every moment? ¹⁹ How long wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle? ²⁰ I have sinned; what shall I do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? why hast thou set me as a mark against thee, so that I am a burden to myself? ²¹ And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away my iniquity? for now shall I sleep in the dust; and thou shalt seek me in the morning, but I shall not be.

Jb 7 (Vulgate)

   ¹ [Militia est vita hominis super terram,
et sicut dies mercenarii dies ejus.
   ² Sicut servus desiderat umbram,
et sicut mercenarius præstolatur finem operis sui,
   ³ sic et ego habui menses vacuos,
et noctes laboriosas enumeravi mihi.
   ⁴ Si dormiero, dicam : Quando consurgam ?
et rursum expectabo vesperam,
et replebor doloribus usque ad tenebras.
   ⁵ Induta est caro mea putredine,
et sordibus pulveris cutis mea aruit et contracta est.
   ⁶ Dies mei velocius transierunt quam a texente tela succiditur,
et consumpti sunt absque ulla spe.
   ⁷ Memento quia ventus est vita mea,
et non revertetur oculus meus ut videat bona.
   ⁸ Nec aspiciet me visus hominis ;
oculi tui in me, et non subsistam.
   ⁹ Sicut consumitur nubes, et pertransit,
sic qui descenderit ad inferos, non ascendet.
   ¹⁰ Nec revertetur ultra in domum suam,
neque cognoscet eum amplius locus ejus.
   ¹¹ Quapropter et ego non parcam ori meo :
loquar in tribulatione spiritus mei ;
confabulabor cum amaritudine animæ meæ.
   ¹² Numquid mare ego sum, aut cetus,
quia circumdedisti me carcere ?
   ¹³ Si dixero : Consolabitur me lectulus meus,
et relevabor loquens mecum in strato meo :
   ¹⁴ terrebis me per somnia,
et per visiones horrore concuties.
   ¹⁵ Quam ob rem elegit suspendium anima mea,
et mortem ossa mea.
   ¹⁶ Desperavi : nequaquam ultra jam vivam :
parce mihi, nihil enim sunt dies mei.
   ¹⁷ Quid est homo, quia magnificas eum ?
aut quid apponis erga eum cor tuum ?
   ¹⁸ Visitas eum diluculo,
et subito probas illum.
   ¹⁹ Usquequo non parcis mihi,
nec dimittis me ut glutiam salivam meam ?
   ²⁰ Peccavi ; quid faciam tibi, o custos hominum ?
quare posuisti me contrarium tibi,
et factus sum mihimetipsi gravis ?
   ²¹ Cur non tollis peccatum meum,
et quare non aufers iniquitatem meam ?
ecce nunc in pulvere dormiam,
et si mane me quæsieris, non subsistam.]