Job 7:5

5 Clothed hath been my flesh [with] worms, And a clod of dust, My skin hath been shrivelled and is loathsome,

Job 7:5 Meaning and Commentary

Job 7:5

My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust
Not as it would be at death, and in the grave, as Schmidt interprets it, when it would be eaten with worms and reduced to dust; but as it then was, his ulcers breeding worms, or lice, as some F25; these spread themselves over his body: some think it was the vermicular or pedicular disease that was upon him, and the scabs of them, which were all over him like one continued crust, were as a garment to him; or those sores of his, running with purulent matter, and he sitting and rolling himself in dust and ashes, and this moisture mingling therewith, and clotted together, formed clods of dust, which covered him all over; a dismal spectacle to look upon! a precious saint in a vile body!

my skin is broken:
with the boils and ulcers in all parts, and was parched and cleft with the heat and breaking of them:

and become loathsome;
to himself and others; exceeding nauseous, and extremely disagreeable both to sight and smell: or "liquefied" F26; moistened with corrupt matter flowing from the ulcers in all parts of his body; the word in Arabic signifies a large, broad, and open wound, as a learned man F1 has observed; and it is as if he should say, whoever observes all this, this long time of distress, night and day, and what a shocking figure he was, as here represented, could blame him for wishing for death in the most passionate manner?


FOOTNOTES:

F25 So Sephorno and Bar Tzemach.
F26 (oamy) "liquefit", Junius & Tremellius; "colliquefacta est", Piscator, Mercerus.
F1 Hinckelman. Praefat. ad Alcoran. p. 30.

Job 7:5 In-Context

3 So I have been caused to inherit months of vanity, And nights of misery they numbered to me.
4 If I lay down then I said, `When do I rise!' And evening hath been measured, And I have been full of tossings till dawn.
5 Clothed hath been my flesh [with] worms, And a clod of dust, My skin hath been shrivelled and is loathsome,
6 My days swifter than a weaving machine, And they are consumed without hope.
7 Remember Thou that my life [is] a breath, Mine eye turneth not back to see good.
Young's Literal Translation is in the public domain.