Now my eyes are blurred from grief. Now all my limbs are like a shadow.
My face is red from crying, and dark shadows encircle my eyes,
the spokesman for my thoughts. My eyes drip ⌞with tears⌟ to God
You have shriveled me up, which itself is a witness ⌞against me⌟. My frail body rises up and testifies against me.
My body is covered with maggots and scabs. My skin is crusted over with sores; then they ooze.
I fade away like a lengthening shadow. I have been shaken off like a grasshopper.
My eyes blur from grief. They fail because of my enemies.
Get away from me, all you troublemakers, because the Lord has heard the sound of my crying.
Who knows what may be good for mortals while they are alive, during the brief, pointless days they live? Mortals pass by like a shadow. Who will tell them about their future under the sun?
This is why we feel sick. This is why our eyes see less and less.