My days pass more swiftly than a weaver’s shuttle;
they come to an end without hope.

Since man’s days are determined
and the number of his months depends on You,
and since You have set limits he cannot pass,

For only a few years will pass
before I go the way of no return.

>

He has blocked my way so that I cannot pass through;
He has veiled my paths with darkness.

They die suddenly in the middle of the night;
people shudder, then pass away.
Even the mighty are removed without effort.

One scale is so close to another
that no air can pass between them.