My kinsmen have failed me; my friends have forgotten me.

There the wicked cease from turmoil, and there the weary are at rest.

Look away from him and let him desist, until he fulfills his time like a hired man.

I loathe it; I do not want to live forever; leave me alone, for my days are a vapor!

Are not my days few? Cease, then, and leave me alone, that I may find a little comfort,

“But there is hope for a tree: If it is cut down, it will sprout again, and its new shoots will not fail.

“But if I speak, my pain is not relieved, and if I refrain from speaking – how much of it goes away?