Parallel
Job 7
Louis Segond 1910 · Berean Standard Bible
Le sort de l’homme sur la terre est celui d’un soldat,
“Is not man consigned to labor on earth? Are not his days like those of a hired hand?
Comme l’esclave soupire après l’ombre,
Like a slave he longs for shade; like a hireling he waits for his wages.
Ainsi j’ai pour partage des mois de douleur,
So I am allotted months of futility, and nights of misery are appointed to me.
Je me couche, et je dis: Quand me lèverai-je? Quand finira la nuit?
When I lie down I think: ‘When will I get up?’ But the night drags on, and I toss and turn until dawn.
Mon corps se couvre de vers et d’une croûte terreuse,
My flesh is clothed with worms and encrusted with dirt; my skin is cracked and festering.
Mes jours sont plus rapides que la navette du tisserand,
My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle; they come to an end without hope.
Souviens-toi que ma vie est un souffle!
Remember that my life is but a breath. My eyes will never again see happiness.
L’œil qui me regarde ne me regardera plus;
The eye that beholds me will no longer see me. You will look for me, but I will be no more.
Comme la nuée se dissipe et s’en va,
As a cloud vanishes and is gone, so he who goes down to Sheol does not come back up.
Il ne reviendra plus dans sa maison,
He never returns to his house; his place remembers him no more.
C’est pourquoi je ne retiendrai point ma bouche,
Therefore I will not restrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
Suis-je une mer, ou un monstre marin,
Am I the sea, or the monster of the deep, that You must keep me under guard?
Quand je dis: Mon lit me soulagera,
When I think my bed will comfort me and my couch will ease my complaint,
C’est alors que tu m’effraies par des songes,
then You frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions,
Ah! Je voudrais être étranglé!
so that I would prefer strangling and death over my life in this body.
Je les méprise!… je ne vivrai pas toujours…
I loathe my life! I would not live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath.
Qu’est-ce que l’homme, pour que tu en fasses tant de cas,
What is man that You should exalt him, that You should set Your heart upon him,
Pour que tu le visites tous les matins,
that You attend to him every morning, and test him every moment?
Quand cesseras-tu d’avoir le regard sur moi?
Will You never look away from me, or leave me alone to swallow my spittle?
Si j’ai péché, qu’ai-je pu te faire, gardien des hommes?
If I have sinned, what have I done to You (note: LXX; Hebrew to myself), O watcher of mankind? Why have You made me Your target, so that I am a burden to You?
Que ne pardonnes-tu mon péché,
Why do You not pardon my transgression and take away my iniquity? For soon I will lie down in the dust; You will seek me, but I will be no more.”