who do not know the thing of the morrow; for what is your life? for it is a vapour that is appearing for a little, and then is vanishing;
And Barzillai saith unto the king, `How many `are' the days of the years of my life, that I go up with the king to Jerusalem?
For consumed in smoke have been my days, And my bones as a fire-brand have burned.
Man to vanity hath been like, His days `are' as a shadow passing by.
Lo, handbreadths Thou hast made my days, And mine age `is' as nothing before Thee, Only, all vanity `is' every man set up. Selah.
And He remembereth that they `are' flesh, A wind going on -- and it returneth not.
Remember, I pray Thee, what `is' life-time? Wherefore in vain hast Thou created All the sons of men?
Boast not thyself of to-morrow, For thou knowest not what a day bringeth forth.
Cease for you from man, Whose breath `is' in his nostrils, For -- in what is he esteemed?
My sojourning hath departed, And been removed from me as a shepherd's tent, I have drawn together, as a weaver, my life, By weakness it cutteth me off, From day unto night Thou dost end me.
and the rich in his becoming low, because as a flower of grass he shall pass away;
because all flesh `is' as grass, and all glory of man as flower of grass; wither did the grass, and the flower of it fell away,
And of all things the end hath come nigh; be sober-minded, then, and watch unto the prayers,
and the world doth pass away, and the desire of it, and he who is doing the will of God, he doth remain -- to the age.