We are all going to die; we are all like water that is poured on the ground and can’t be gathered up. But doesn’t God forgive a person? He never plans to keep a banished person in exile.
To you we are all like our ancestors— foreigners without permanent homes. Our days are as fleeting as shadows on the ground. There’s no hope ⌞for them⌟.
With stern warnings you discipline people for their crimes. Like a moth you eat away at what is dear to them. Certainly, everyone is like a whisper in the wind. Selah
Common people are only a whisper in the wind. Important people are only a delusion. When all of them are weighed on a scale, they amount to nothing. They are less than a whisper in the wind.