"My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, And are spent without hope.

Oh, remember that my life [is] a breath! My eye will never again see good.

The couriers who rode on royal horses went out, hastened and pressed on by the king's command. And the decree was issued in Shushan the citadel.

Indeed, You have made my days [as] handbreadths, And my age [is] as nothing before You; Certainly every man at his best state [is] but vapor. Selah

When with rebukes You correct man for iniquity, You make his beauty melt away like a moth; Surely every man [is] vapor. Selah

Remember how short my time is; For what futility have You created all the children of men?

For all our days have passed away in Your wrath; We finish our years like a sigh.

The days of our lives [are] seventy years; And if by reason of strength [they are] eighty years, Yet their boast [is] only labor and sorrow; For it is soon cut off, and we fly away.

whereas you do not know what [will happen] tomorrow. For what [is] your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.