My house has been plucked up and vanishes from me like a shepherd's tent; like a weaver, I've taken account of my life, and he cuts me off from the loom day and night you make an end of me.

"Come, go to this steward, to Shebna who is in charge of the household, and ask him: "What are you doing here, and who are your relatives here that you could carve out a grave for yourself here cutting out a tomb at the choicest location, chiseling out a resting place for yourself out of solid rock?