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Job 7

 
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1 πότερον οὐχὶ πειρατήριόν ἐστιν ὁ βίος ἀνθρώπου ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς καὶ ὥσπερ μισθίου αὐθημερινοῦ ἡ ζωὴ αὐτοῦ 2 ἢ ὥσπερ θεράπων δεδοικὼς τὸν κύριον αὐτοῦ καὶ τετευχὼς σκιᾶς ἢ ὥσπερ μισθωτὸς ἀναμένων τὸν μισθὸν αὐτοῦ 3 οὕτως κἀγὼ ὑπέμεινα μῆνας κενούς νύκτες δὲ ὀδυνῶν δεδομέναι μοί εἰσιν 4 ἐὰν κοιμηθῶ λέγω πότε ἡμέρα ὡς {D'} ἂν ἀναστῶ πάλιν πότε ἑσπέρα πλήρης δὲ γίνομαι ὀδυνῶν ἀπὸ ἑσπέρας ἕως πρωί 5 φύρεται δέ μου τὸ σῶμα ἐν σαπρίᾳ σκωλήκων τήκω δὲ βώλακας γῆς ἀπὸ ἰχῶρος ξύων 6 ὁ δὲ βίος μού ἐστιν ἐλαφρότερος λαλιᾶς ἀπόλωλεν δὲ ἐν κενῇ ἐλπίδι 1 What is man’s life on earth but a campaigning? Like a hired drudge, he passes his time away; 2 nor ever was slave so weary, longing for the shade, or drudge so weary, waiting to earn his hire, 3 as I have been, counting these months of emptiness, these nights that never brought rest. 4 Lie I down to sleep, I weary to be up with the day; comes the day, I weary for the evening, comfortless until dark. 5 Overgrown my flesh with worms, matted with dust; my skin dried up and shrivelled. 6 Frail as the weaver’s thread my years vanish away, spent without hope. 1

Militia est vita hominis super terram,
et sicut dies mercenarii dies ejus.
2
Sicut servus desiderat umbram,
et sicut mercenarius præstolatur finem operis sui,
3
sic et ego habui menses vacuos,
et noctes laboriosas enumeravi mihi.
4
Si dormiero, dicam: Quando consurgam?
et rursum expectabo vesperam,
et replebor doloribus usque ad tenebras.
5
Induta est caro mea putredine,
et sordibus pulveris cutis mea aruit et contracta est.
6
Dies mei velocius transierunt quam a texente tela succiditur,
et consumpti sunt absque ulla spe.
7 μνήσθητι οὖν ὅτι πνεῦμά μου ἡ ζωὴ καὶ οὐκέτι ἐπανελεύσεται ὁ ὀφθαλμός μου ἰδεῖν ἀγαθόν 8 οὐ περιβλέψεταί με ὀφθαλμὸς ὁρῶντός με οἱ ὀφθαλμοί σου ἐν ἐμοί καὶ οὐκέτι εἰμὶ 9 ὥσπερ νέφος ἀποκαθαρθὲν ἀ{P'} οὐρανοῦ ἐὰν γὰρ ἄνθρωπος καταβῇ εἰς ᾅδην οὐκέτι μὴ ἀναβῇ 10 οὐ{D'} οὐ μὴ ἐπιστρέψῃ ἔτι εἰς τὸν ἴδιον οἶκον οὐδὲ μὴ ἐπιγνῷ αὐτὸν ἔτι ὁ τόπος αὐτοῦ 11 ἀτὰρ οὖν οὐδὲ ἐγὼ φείσομαι τῷ στόματί μου λαλήσω ἐν ἀνάγκῃ ὤν ἀνοίξω πικρίαν ψυχῆς μου συνεχόμενος 12 πότερον θάλασσά εἰμι ἢ δράκων ὅτι κατέταξας ἐ{P'} ἐμὲ φυλακήν 13 εἶπα ὅτι παρακαλέσει με ἡ κλίνη μου ἀνοίσω δὲ πρὸς ἐμαυτὸν ἰδίᾳ λόγον τῇ κοίτῃ μου 14 ἐκφοβεῖς με ἐνυπνίοις καὶ ἐν ὁράμασίν με καταπλήσσεις 7 Bethink thee, Lord, it is but a breath, this life of mine, and I shall look on this fair world but once; 8 when that is done, men will see me no more, and thou as nothing. 9 Like a cloud dislimned in passing, man goes to his grave never to return; 10 never again the home-coming, never shall tidings of him reach the haunts he knew. 11 And should I utter no word? Nay, the crushed spirit will find a voice, the embittered heart will not keep its own counsel. 12 Am I a raging sea, a ravening monster, that thou guardest me so close? 13 When I would find rest on my pillow, take refuge in night thoughts, 14 what dreams thou sendest to daunt me, what sights of terror to unman me! 7
Memento quia ventus est vita mea,
et non revertetur oculus meus ut videat bona.
8
Nec aspiciet me visus hominis;
oculi tui in me, et non subsistam.
9
Sicut consumitur nubes, et pertransit,
sic qui descenderit ad inferos, non ascendet.
10
Nec revertetur ultra in domum suam,
neque cognoscet eum amplius locus ejus.
11
Quapropter et ego non parcam ori meo:
loquar in tribulatione spiritus mei;
confabulabor cum amaritudine animæ meæ.
12
Numquid mare ego sum, aut cetus,
quia circumdedisti me carcere?
13
Si dixero: Consolabitur me lectulus meus,
et relevabor loquens mecum in strato meo:
14
terrebis me per somnia,
et per visiones horrore concuties.
15 ἀπαλλάξεις ἀπὸ πνεύματός μου τὴν ψυχήν μου ἀπὸ δὲ θανάτου τὰ ὀστᾶ μου 16 οὐ γὰρ εἰς τὸν αἰῶνα ζήσομαι ἵνα μακροθυμήσω ἀπόστα ἀ{P'} ἐμοῦ κενὸς γάρ μου ὁ βίος 17 τί γάρ ἐστιν ἄνθρωπος ὅτι ἐμεγάλυνας αὐτὸν ἢ ὅτι προσέχεις τὸν νοῦν εἰς αὐτὸν 18 ἢ ἐπισκοπὴν αὐτοῦ ποιήσῃ ἕως τὸ πρωὶ καὶ εἰς ἀνάπαυσιν αὐτὸν κρινεῖς 19 ἕως τίνος οὐκ ἐᾷς με οὐδὲ προΐῃ με ἕως ἂν καταπίω τὸν πτύελόν μου ἐν ὀδύνῃ 20 εἰ ἐγὼ ἥμαρτον τί δύναμαί σοι πρᾶξαι ὁ ἐπιστάμενος τὸν νοῦν τῶν ἀνθρώπων διὰ τί ἔθου με κατεντευκτήν σου εἰμὶ δὲ ἐπὶ σοὶ φορτίον 21 καὶ διὰ τί οὐκ ἐποιήσω τῆς ἀνομίας μου λήθην καὶ καθαρισμὸν τῆς ἁμαρτίας μου νυνὶ δὲ εἰς γῆν ἀπελεύσομαι ὀρθρίζων δὲ οὐκέτι εἰμί 15 The rope for me! Death only will content this frame. 16 To despair I yield myself, I will live on no more; loose thy hold of me; this life of mine is but the shadow of a life. 17 Why is it that thou wilt make so noble a thing of man, wilt pay so much heed to him? 18 Never a day dawns but thou wilt surprise him at his post; never a moment when thou art not making proof of him. 19 Nay, gaze on me no more; leave me, though it were but for a breathing-space, to myself! 20 If sinned I have, does human act of mine claim thy watchful regard? Must my path always cross thine, my life always be a burden to me?[1] 21 Would it cost thee much to forgive sin of mine, pass over fault of mine, when I, so soon, shall be lying in the dust, missing at my post, as thou makest thy rounds at dawn? 15
Quam ob rem elegit suspendium anima mea,
et mortem ossa mea.
16
Desperavi: nequaquam ultra jam vivam:
parce mihi, nihil enim sunt dies mei.
17
Quid est homo, quia magnificas eum?
aut quid apponis erga eum cor tuum?
18
Visitas eum diluculo,
et subito probas illum.
19
Usquequo non parcis mihi,
nec dimittis me ut glutiam salivam meam?
20
Peccavi; quid faciam tibi, o custos hominum?
quare posuisti me contrarium tibi,
et factus sum mihimetipsi gravis?
21
Cur non tollis peccatum meum,
et quare non aufers iniquitatem meam?
ecce nunc in pulvere dormiam,
et si mane me quæsieris, non subsistam.
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Copyright © 2013 by Kevin Knight. Dedicated to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.