Tua Palavra

|Jó 7:1| Isn’t mankind consigned to forced labor ^a on earth? Are not his days like those of a hired hand?

|Jó 7:2| Like a slave he longs for shade; like a hired man he waits for his pay.

|Jó 7:3| So I have been made to inherit months of futility, and troubled nights have been assigned to me. ^b

|Jó 7:4| When I lie down I think: When will I get up? But the evening drags on endlessly, and I toss and turn until dawn.

|Jó 7:5| My flesh is clothed with maggots and encrusted with dirt. ¹ My skin forms scabs ² and then oozes. ^c

|Jó 7:6| My days pass more swiftly than a weaver’s shuttle; they come to an end without hope. ^d

|Jó 7:7| Remember that my life is but a breath. My eye will never again see anything good. ^e

|Jó 7:8| The eye of anyone who looks on me will no longer see me. Your eyes will look for me, but I will be gone. ^f

|Jó 7:9| As a cloud fades away and vanishes, so the one who goes down to Sheol ^g will never rise again.

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|Jó 7:10| He will never return to his house; his hometown will no longer remember ³ him. ^h