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: