Look away from him, and he will cease to be. Meanwhile, he loves life as a laborer loves work.
“ ‘Isn’t my life short enough? So stop ⌞this⌟, and leave me alone. Let me smile a little
There is hope for a tree when it is cut down. It will sprout again. Its shoots will not stop sprouting.
I hate my life; I do not want to live forever. Leave me alone because my days are so brief.
Why don’t you stop looking at me long enough to let me swallow my spit?
Look away from me so that I may smile again before I go away and am no more.
But now the Lord says, “Moab’s honor will be despised within three years. I will count them like workers count the years left of their contracts. In spite of their great number, the survivors will be very few and powerless.”