“Man, who is born of woman,
Is short-lived and full of turmoil.

“You will call, and I will answer You;
You will long for the work of Your hands.

“For now You number my steps,
You do not observe my sin.

“My transgression is sealed up in a bag,
And You wrap up my iniquity.

“But the falling mountain crumbles away,
And the rock moves from its place;

“His sons achieve honor, but he does not know it;
Or they become insignificant, but he does not perceive it.

“But his body pains him,
And he mourns only for himself.”

Water wears away stones,
Its torrents wash away the dust of the earth;
So You destroy man’s hope.

“You forever overpower him and he departs;
You change his appearance and send him away.

“Who can make the clean out of the unclean?
No one!

“If a man dies, will he live again?
All the days of my struggle I will wait
Until my change comes.

“For there is hope for a tree,
When it is cut down, that it will sprout again,
And its shoots will not fail.

“Since his days are determined,
The number of his months is with You;
And his limits You have set so that he cannot pass.

So man lies down and does not rise.
Until the heavens are no longer,
He will not awake nor be aroused out of his sleep.

“Like a flower he comes forth and withers.
He also flees like a shadow and does not remain.

“But man dies and lies prostrate.
Man expires, and where is he?

“Oh that You would hide me in Sheol,
That You would conceal me until Your wrath returns to You,
That You would set a limit for me and remember me!

“Turn Your gaze from him that he may rest,
Until he fulfills his day like a hired man.

“As water evaporates from the sea,
And a river becomes parched and dried up,

“You also open Your eyes on him
And bring him into judgment with Yourself.

“Though its roots grow old in the ground
And its stump dies in the dry soil,

At the scent of water it will flourish
And put forth sprigs like a plant.