Job 7:5

5 Mon corps se couvre de vers et d'une croûte terreuse, Ma peau se crevasse et se dissout.

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 Ainsi j'ai pour partage des mois de douleur, J'ai pour mon lot des nuits de souffrance.
4 Je me couche, et je dis: Quand me lèverai-je? quand finira la nuit? Et je suis rassasié d'agitations jusqu'au point du jour.
5 Mon corps se couvre de vers et d'une croûte terreuse, Ma peau se crevasse et se dissout.
6 Mes jours sont plus rapides que la navette du tisserand, Ils s'évanouissent: plus d'espérance!
7 Souviens-toi que ma vie est un souffle! Mes yeux ne reverront pas le bonheur.
The Louis Segond 1910 is in the public domain.