When I go to my bed, I say, When will it be time to get up? but the night is long, and I am turning from side to side till morning light.
They are changing night into day; they say, The light is near the dark.
The flesh is gone from my bones, and they give me no rest; there is no end to my pains.
I am gone like the shade when it is stretched out: I am forced out of my place like a locust.
My soul is watching for the Lord more than those who are watching for the morning; yes, more than the watchers for the morning.
The voice of my sorrow is a weariness to me; all the night I make my bed wet with weeping; it is watered by the drops flowing from my eyes.
You keep my eyes from sleep; I am so troubled that no words come.
O troubled one, storm-crushed, uncomforted! see, your stones will be framed in fair colours, and your bases will be sapphires.
In the morning you will say, If only it was evening! And at evening you will say, If only morning would come! Because of the fear in your hearts and the things which your eyes will see.