So I came to hate life because everything done here under the sun is so troubling. Everything is meaningless—like chasing the wind.
I came to hate all my hard work here on earth, for I must leave to others everything I have earned.
And who can tell whether my successors will be wise or foolish? Yet they will control everything I have gained by my skill and hard work under the sun. How meaningless!
So I gave up in despair, questioning the value of all my hard work in this world.
Some people work wisely with knowledge and skill, then must leave the fruit of their efforts to someone who hasn’t worked for it. This, too, is meaningless, a great tragedy.
So what do people get in this life for all their hard work and anxiety?
Their days of labor are filled with pain and grief; even at night their minds cannot rest. It is all meaningless.