For a short time they are lifted up; then they are gone; they are made low, they are pulled off like fruit, and like the heads of grain they are cut off.

For what careth he, what become of his household after his death, when the number of his months is cut short?

That the singing of the wicked is short, And the joy of the profane for a moment,

I -- to man is my complaint? and if so, wherefore May not my temper become short?

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

I also, have a mind like you, I, fall not short, of you, But who hath not such things as these?

Just as ye know, I too, know, I, fall not short, of you.

For in a short time I will take the journey from which I will not come back.

The steps of his strength become short, and by his design destruction overtakes him.

They come to their end while they are still young, their life is short like that of those who are used for sex purposes in the worship of their gods.

“These [thoughts try to] make the night into the day;
‘The light is near,’ they say in the presence of darkness [but they pervert the truth].

Upon it [the] quiver rattles [along with] [the] flash of [the] spear and [the] short sword.

Clubs are regarded as stubble, and it laughs at [the] short sword's rattle.

"They remain only a short time on the water's surface; their inheritance will be cursed in the land; no one will work in their vineyards.

Shall not my short life come so soon to an end? O hold thee from me, let me alone, that I may ease myself a little

The days of man are short, the number of his months are known only to thee. Thou hast appointed him his bounds; he cannot go beyond them.

This is now a short sum of his doings. But who is able sufficiently to rehearse his works? Who can perceive and understand the thunder of his power?"

Who have been cut down unexpectedly, A flood is poured out on their foundation.

'Surely our substance hath not been cut off, And their excellency hath fire consumed.'

For I have not been cut off before darkness, And before me He covered thick darkness.

For what is the hope of the profane, When He doth cut off? When God doth cast off his soul?

As a flower he hath gone forth, and is cut off, And he fleeth as a shadow and standeth not.

For there is of a tree hope, if it be cut down, That again it doth change, That its tender branch doth not cease.

And he inhabiteth cities cut off, houses not dwelt in, That have been ready to become heaps.

From beneath his roots are dried up, And from above cut off is his crop.

“Would that God were willing to crush me,
That He would loose His hand and cut me off!

“While it is still green and not cut down,
Yet it withers before any other plant.