“My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and they come to an end without hope.
Remember, O God, that my life is but a breath; my eyes will never see happiness again.
The eye that now sees me will see me no longer; you will look for me, but I will be no more.
As a cloud vanishes and is gone, so one who goes down to the grave does not return.
He will never come to his house again; his place will know him no more.