Let my prayer come to your ears, O Lord, and give attention to my cry, make an answer to my weeping: for my time here is short before you, and in a little time I will be gone, like all my fathers.

Let your wrath be turned away from me, so that I may be comforted, before I go away from here, and become nothing.

And I said, If only I had wings like a dove! for then I would go in flight from here and be at rest.

They are turned here and there, rolling like a man who is full of wine; and all their wisdom comes to nothing.