And, a man himself, as a rotten thing, weareth out, as a garment which the moth hath eaten.
How much more the dwellers in houses of clay, which, in the dust, have their foundation, which are crushed sooner than a moth:
Let her not, I beseech thee, remain like the still-born, - which when it is born of its mother, the half of its flesh is consumed.
Night, boreth, my bones, all over me, - and, my sinews, find no rest;
A brother, became I to the brutes that howl, and a companion to the birds that screech:
When, by rebukes for iniquity, thou hast corrected a man, Then hast thou consumed, as a moth, all that was delightful within him, Surely, a breath, are all men. Selah.