Job 17:1

A Conservative Version

My spirit is consumed, my days are extinct, the grave is [ready] for me.

See the chapter Copy

For I will not contend forever, nor will I always be angry, for the spirit would faint before me, and the souls that I have made.

And after this Job lived a hundred and forty years, and saw his sons, and his sons' sons, [even] four generations.

My breath is strange to my wife, and my supplication to the sons of my own mother.

What is my strength that I should wait? And what is my end that I should be patient?

My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.

For when a few years are come, I shall go the way where I shall not return.

My days are past. my purposes are broken off, even the thoughts of my heart.