A man born of woman
1A man born of woman: few of days, and full of turmoil. 2He comes up like a flower and withers; he flees like a shadow and does not stay. 3And on such a one you fix your eyes, and bring me into court with you? 4Who can bring the clean out of the unclean? No one. 5If his days are decided, if the number of his months is with you and you have set his limits, which he cannot cross, 6then look away from him and let him be, until he has served out his day like a hired man. 7For a tree there is hope: if it is cut down it will sprout again, and its new shoot will not fail. 8Though its root grows old in the earth and its stump dies in the dust, 9at the scent of water it will bud and put out branches like a young plant. 10But a valiant man dies and is laid low; man breathes his last — and where is he? 11As water drains away from a lake, and a river runs low and dries up, 12so a man lies down and does not rise. Until the heavens are no more they will not wake, nor be roused from their sleep.
If a man dies, will he live again?
13If only you would hide me in Sheol, conceal me until your anger turns back, set me a limit, and remember me! 14If a valiant man dies, will he live again? All the days of my hard service I would wait, until my relief came. 15You would call, and I would answer you; you would long for the work of your hands. 16For then you would count my steps, but you would not keep watch over my sin. 17My offense would be sealed up in a bag, and you would plaster over my guilt. 18But a mountain falls and crumbles away, and a rock is moved from its place; 19water wears down stones, its torrents wash away the soil of the earth — and so you destroy the hope of a mortal. 20You overpower him for good, and he goes; you change his face and send him away. 21His sons come to honor, and he does not know it; they are brought low, and he does not see it. 22Only his own flesh feels its pain, and his own soul mourns for him.
