Man, born of woman, is short of days and full of trouble.

Like a flower he comes out and is cut down, he flees like a shadow and does not stand.

And on this you open your eyes, and you bring me into judgment with you.

Who will bring a pure one from an impure one? Not one.

If his days are determined, the number of his months is with you, you have set his bounds and he will not pass.

Look away from him and let him cease until he is pleased, like a hired man his day.

For there is hope for a tree; if it is cut down, it will sprout again, and its shoot will not fail.

If its root grows old in the earth, and its stump dies in the dust.

From the scent of water it will sprout, and make a harvest like a planted thing.

But man dies and becomes weak, and man breathes his last, and where is he?

Waters fail from the sea, and a river dries up and becomes barren.

And man lies down and does not rise; until the sky is no more, they will not awake, nor will they be roused from their sleep.

Who will grant me in Sheol, you will hide me, until your anger turns back, you will set a boundary for me and remember me.

If a man dies, will he live? All the days of my service I will wait until my change comes.

You will call and I will answer you; for the work of your hands you will long.

For now you count my steps; you do not guard against my sin.

My transgression is sealed in a pouch, and you have covered my iniquity.

But a falling mountain crumbles, and a rock moves from its place.

Waters wear away stones; the wash of the earth wears away its growth, and you destroy the hope of man.

You overpower him forever and he goes, changing his face and you send him away.

His sons are honored and he does not know, and they are brought low and he does not understand for them.

Only his flesh pains him, and his soul grieves for him.