Yet man is born for trouble, as surely as sparks fly upward.
“A mortal born of woman, is of few days and full of turmoil.
“Does not man have hard labor on earth? Are not his days like those of a hired laborer?
The span of our years is seventy —or with strength, eighty— yet at best they are trouble and sorrow. For they are soon gone, and we fly away.
All things are wearisome. No one can express them. The eye is never satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing.
For what does a man get for all his toil and longing of his heart for which he labors under the sun?
For all his days, his work is pain and grief. Even at night his mind does not rest. This also is futility.
Why did I ever come forth out of the womb to see trouble and sorrow, and my days end in shame?
No temptation has taken hold of you except what is common to mankind. But God is faithful—He will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you can handle. But with the temptation He will also provide a way of escape, so you will be able to endure it.
