I said: In the prime of my life I must go to the gates of Sheol; I am deprived of the rest of my years.
I said: I will never see the Lord, the Lord in the land of the living; I will not look on humanity any longer with the inhabitants of what is passing away.
My dwelling is plucked up and removed from me like a shepherd's tent. I have rolled up my life like a weaver; He cuts me off from the loom. You make an end of me from day until night.
I thought until the morning: He will break all my bones like a lion; You make an end of me day and night.
I chirp like a swallow [or] a crane; I moan like a dove. My eyes grow weak looking upward. Lord, I am oppressed; support me.
What can I say? He has spoken to me, and He Himself has done it. I walk along slowly all my years because of the bitterness of my soul,
Lord, because of these [promises] people live, and in all of them is the life of my spirit as well; You have restored me to health and let me live.
Indeed, it was for [my own] welfare that I had such great bitterness; but Your love [has delivered] me from the Pit of destruction, for You have thrown all my sins behind Your back.
For Sheol cannot thank You; Death cannot praise You. Those who go down to the Pit cannot hope for Your faithfulness.
The living, only the living can thank You, as I do today; a father will make Your faithfulness known to children.
The Lord will save me; we will play stringed instruments all the days of our lives at the house of the Lord.