As a cloud dissolves and vanishes, so whoever goes down to Sheol shall not come up.
But now he is dead. Why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.”
We must indeed die; we are then like water that is poured out on the ground and cannot be gathered up. Yet, though God does not bring back to life, he does devise means so as not to banish anyone from him.
Before I go whence I shall not return, to the land of darkness and of gloom,
It is higher than the heavens; what can you do? It is deeper than Sheol; what can you know?
For my years are numbered, and I go the road of no return.
If my only hope is dwelling in Sheol, and spreading my couch in darkness,
Will they descend with me into Sheol? Shall we go down together into the dust?
For then I should have lain down and been tranquil; had I slept, I should then have been at rest
terrors roll over me. My dignity is driven off like the wind, and my well-being vanishes like a cloud.
The clouds too are laden with moisture, the storm-cloud scatters its light.
Listen to my prayer, Lord, hear my cry; do not be deaf to my weeping! For I am with you like a foreigner, a refugee, like my ancestors.
Dead they are, they cannot live, shades that cannot rise; Indeed, you have punished and destroyed them, and wiped out all memory of them.
I said, I shall see the Lord no more in the land of the living. Nor look on any mortals among those who dwell in the world.