Job 7:1-21

Job 7:1-6-17-21 The Message (MSG)

“Human life is a struggle, isn’t it? It’s a life sentence to hard labor. Like field hands longing for quitting time and working stiffs with nothing to hope for but payday, I’m given a life that meanders and goes nowhere— months of aimlessness, nights of misery! I go to bed and think, ‘How long till I can get up?’ I toss and turn as the night drags on—and I’m fed up! I’m covered with maggots and scabs. My skin gets scaly and hard, then oozes with pus. My days come and go swifter than the click of knitting needles, and then the yarn runs out—an unfinished life! “God, don’t forget that I’m only a puff of air! These eyes have had their last look at goodness. And your eyes have seen the last of me; even while you’re looking, there’ll be nothing left to look at. When a cloud evaporates, it’s gone for good; those who go to the grave never come back. They don’t return to visit their families; never again will friends drop in for coffee. “And so I’m not keeping one bit of this quiet, I’m laying it all out on the table; my complaining to high heaven is bitter, but honest. Are you going to put a muzzle on me, the way you quiet the sea and still the storm? If I say, ‘I’m going to bed, then I’ll feel better. A little nap will lift my spirits,’ You come and so scare me with nightmares and frighten me with ghosts That I’d rather strangle in the bedclothes than face this kind of life any longer. I hate this life! Who needs any more of this? Let me alone! There’s nothing to my life—it’s nothing but smoke. “What are mortals anyway, that you bother with them, that you even give them the time of day? That you check up on them every morning, looking in on them to see how they’re doing? Let up on me, will you? Can’t you even let me spit in peace? Even suppose I’d sinned—how would that hurt you? You’re responsible for every human being. Don’t you have better things to do than pick on me? Why make a federal case out of me? Why don’t you just forgive my sins and start me off with a clean slate? The way things are going, I’ll soon be dead. You’ll look high and low, but I won’t be around.”

Job 7:1-21 New American Standard Bible (NASB)

“Is not man forced to labor on earth, And are not his days like the days of a hired man? As a slave who pants for the shade, And as a hired man who eagerly waits for his wages, So am I allotted months of vanity, And nights of trouble are appointed me. When I lie down I say, ‘When shall I arise?’ But the night continues, And I am continually tossing until dawn. My flesh is clothed with worms and a crust of dirt, My skin hardens and runs. My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, And come to an end without hope. “Remember that my life is but breath; My eye will not again see good. The eye of him who sees me will behold me no longer; Your eyes will be on me, but I will not be. When a cloud vanishes, it is gone, So he who goes down to Sheol does not come up. He will not return again to his house, Nor will his place know him anymore. “Therefore I will not restrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit, I will complain in the bitterness of my soul. Am I the sea, or the sea monster, That You set a guard over me? If I say, ‘My bed will comfort me, My couch will ease my complaint,’ Then You frighten me with dreams And terrify me by visions; So that my soul would choose suffocation, Death rather than my pains. I waste away; I will not live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath. What is man that You magnify him, And that You are concerned about him, That You examine him every morning And try him every moment? Will You never turn Your gaze away from me, Nor let me alone until I swallow my spittle? Have I sinned? What have I done to You, O watcher of men? Why have You set me as Your target, So that I am a burden to myself? Why then do You not pardon my transgression And take away my iniquity? For now I will lie down in the dust; And You will seek me, but I will not be.”

Job 7:1-21 New Living Translation (NLT)

“Is not all human life a struggle? Our lives are like that of a hired hand, like a worker who longs for the shade, like a servant waiting to be paid. I, too, have been assigned months of futility, long and weary nights of misery. Lying in bed, I think, ‘When will it be morning?’ But the night drags on, and I toss till dawn. My body is covered with maggots and scabs. My skin breaks open, oozing with pus. “My days fly faster than a weaver’s shuttle. They end without hope. O God, remember that my life is but a breath, and I will never again feel happiness. You see me now, but not for long. You will look for me, but I will be gone. Just as a cloud dissipates and vanishes, those who die will not come back. They are gone forever from their home— never to be seen again. “I cannot keep from speaking. I must express my anguish. My bitter soul must complain. Am I a sea monster or a dragon that you must place me under guard? I think, ‘My bed will comfort me, and sleep will ease my misery,’ but then you shatter me with dreams and terrify me with visions. I would rather be strangled— rather die than suffer like this. I hate my life and don’t want to go on living. Oh, leave me alone for my few remaining days. “What are people, that you should make so much of us, that you should think of us so often? For you examine us every morning and test us every moment. Why won’t you leave me alone, at least long enough for me to swallow! If I have sinned, what have I done to you, O watcher of all humanity? Why make me your target? Am I a burden to you? Why not just forgive my sin and take away my guilt? For soon I will lie down in the dust and die. When you look for me, I will be gone.”

Job 7:1-21 King James Version (KJV)

Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? are not his days also like the days of an hireling? As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling looketh for the reward of his work: So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me. 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. My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and become loathsome. My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope. O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good. The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not. As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away: so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more. He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him any more. 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. Am I a sea, or a whale, that thou settest a watch over me? When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint; Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions: So that my soul chooseth strangling, and death rather than my life. I loathe it; I would not live alway: let me alone; for my days are vanity. What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him? And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, and try him every moment? How long wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle? 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? And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? for now shall I sleep in the dust; and thou shalt seek me in the morning, but I shall not be.

Job 7:1-21 New Century Version (NCV)

“People have a hard task on earth, and their days are like those of a laborer. They are like a slave wishing for the evening shadows, like a laborer waiting to be paid. But I am given months that are empty, and nights of misery have been given to me. When I lie down, I think, ‘How long until I get up?’ The night is long, and I toss until dawn. My body is covered with worms and scabs, and my skin is broken and full of sores. “My days go by faster than a weaver’s tool, and they come to an end without hope. Remember, God, that my life is only a breath. My eyes will never see happy times again. Those who see me now will see me no more; you will look for me, but I will be gone. As a cloud disappears and is gone, people go to the grave and never return. They will never come back to their houses again, and their places will not know them anymore. “So I will not stay quiet; I will speak out in the suffering of my spirit. I will complain because I am so unhappy. I am not the sea or the sea monster. So why have you set a guard over me? Sometimes I think my bed will comfort me or that my couch will stop my complaint. Then you frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions. My throat prefers to be choked; my bones welcome death. I hate my life; I don’t want to live forever. Leave me alone, because my days have no meaning. “Why do you make people so important and give them so much attention? You examine them every morning and test them every moment. Will you never look away from me or leave me alone even long enough to swallow? If I have sinned, what have I done to you, you watcher of humans? Why have you made me your target? Have I become a heavy load for you? Why don’t you pardon my wrongs and forgive my sins? I will soon lie down in the dust of death. Then you will search for me, but I will be no more.”

Job 7:1-21 American Standard Version (ASV)

Is there not a warfare to man upon earth? And are not his days like the days of a hireling? As a servant that earnestly desireth the shadow, And as a hireling that looketh for his wages: So am I made to possess months of misery, And wearisome nights are appointed to me. 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. My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; My skin closeth up, and breaketh out afresh. My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, And are spent without hope. Oh remember that my life is a breath: Mine eye shall no more see good. The eye of him that seeth me shall behold me no more; Thine eyes shall be upon me, but I shall not be. As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away, So he that goeth down to Sheol shall come up no more. He shall return no more to his house, Neither shall his place know him any more. 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. Am I a sea, or a sea-monster, That thou settest a watch over me? When I say, My bed shall comfort me, My couch shall ease my complaint; Then thou scarest me with dreams, And terrifiest me through visions: So that my soul chooseth strangling, And death rather than these my bones. I loathe my life; I would not live alway: Let me alone; for my days are vanity. What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him, And that thou shouldest set thy mind upon him, And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, And try him every moment? How long wilt thou not look away from me, Nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle? If I have sinned, what do I unto thee, O thou watcher of men? Why hast thou set me as a mark for thee, So that I am a burden to myself? And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? For now shall I lie down in the dust; And thou wilt seek me diligently, but I shall not be.

Job 7:1-21 New International Version (NIV)

“Do not mortals have hard service on earth? Are not their days like those of hired laborers? Like a slave longing for the evening shadows, or a hired laborer waiting to be paid, so I have been allotted months of futility, and nights of misery have been assigned to me. When I lie down I think, ‘How long before I get up?’ The night drags on, and I toss and turn until dawn. My body is clothed with worms and scabs, my skin is broken and festering. “My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and they come to an end without hope. Remember, O God, that my life is but a breath; my eyes will never see happiness again. The eye that now sees me will see me no longer; you will look for me, but I will be no more. As a cloud vanishes and is gone, so one who goes down to the grave does not return. He will never come to his house again; his place will know him no more. “Therefore I will not keep silent; I will speak out in the anguish of my spirit, I will complain in the bitterness of my soul. Am I the sea, or the monster of the deep, that you put me under guard? When I think my bed will comfort me and my couch will ease my complaint, even then you frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions, so that I prefer strangling and death, rather than this body of mine. I despise my life; I would not live forever. Let me alone; my days have no meaning. “What is mankind that you make so much of them, that you give them so much attention, that you examine them every morning and test them every moment? Will you never look away from me, or let me alone even for an instant? If I have sinned, what have I done to you, you who see everything we do? Why have you made me your target? Have I become a burden to you? Why do you not pardon my offenses and forgive my sins? For I will soon lie down in the dust; you will search for me, but I will be no more.”

Job 7:1-21 Amplified Bible (AMP)

“Is not man forced to labor on earth? And are not his days like the days of a hired man? As a slave earnestly longs for the shade, And as a hired man eagerly awaits his wages, So am I allotted months of futility and suffering, And [long] nights of trouble and misery are appointed to me. When I lie down I say, ‘When shall I arise [and the night be gone]?’ But the night continues, And I am continually tossing until the dawning of day. My body is clothed with worms and a crust of dust; My skin is hardened [and broken and loathsome], and [breaks out and] runs. My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, And are spent without hope. “Remember that my life is but breath [a puff of wind, a sigh]; My eye will not see good again. The eye of him who sees me [now] will see me no more; Your eyes will be upon me, but I will not be. As a cloud vanishes and is gone, So he who goes down to Sheol (the nether world, the place of the dead) does not come up. He will not return again to his house, Nor will his place know about him anymore. “Therefore I will not restrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit, I will complain in the bitterness of my soul [O Lord]. Am I the sea, or the sea monster, That You set a guard over me? When I say, ‘My bed will comfort me, My couch will ease my complaint,’ Then You frighten me with dreams And terrify me through visions, So that I would choose suffocation, Death rather than my pain. I waste away and loathe my life; I will not live forever. Let me alone, for my days are but a breath [futile and without substance]. What is man that You [should] magnify him [and think him important]? And that You are concerned about him? And that You examine him every morning And try and test him every moment? Will You never turn Your gaze away from me [it plagues me], Nor let me alone until I swallow my spittle? If I have sinned, what [harm] have I done to You, O Watcher of mankind? Why have You set me as a target for You, So that I am a burden to myself? Why then do You not pardon my transgression And take away my sin and guilt? For now I will lie down in the dust; And You will seek me [diligently], but I will not be.”

Job 7:1-21 English Standard Version (ESV)

"Has not man a hard service on earth, and are not his days like the days of a hired hand? Like a slave who longs for the shadow, and like a hired hand who looks for his wages, so I am allotted months of emptiness, and nights of misery are apportioned to me. When I lie down I say, 'When shall I arise?' But the night is long, and I am full of tossing till the dawn. My flesh is clothed with worms and dirt; my skin hardens, then breaks out afresh. My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle and come to their end without hope. "Remember that my life is a breath; my eye will never again see good. The eye of him who sees me will behold me no more; while your eyes are on me, I shall be gone. As the cloud fades and vanishes, so he who goes down to Sheol does not come up; he returns no more to his house, nor does his place know him anymore. "Therefore I will not restrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul. Am I the sea, or a sea monster, that you set a guard over me? When I say, 'My bed will comfort me, my couch will ease my complaint,' then you scare me with dreams and terrify me with visions, so that I would choose strangling and death rather than my bones. I loathe my life; I would not live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are a breath. What is man, that you make so much of him, and that you set your heart on him, visit him every morning and test him every moment? How long will you not look away from me, nor leave me alone till I swallow my spit? If I sin, what do I do to you, you watcher of mankind? Why have you made me your mark? Why have I become a burden to you? Why do you not pardon my transgression and take away my iniquity? For now I shall lie in the earth; you will seek me, but I shall not be."