The days of our lives add up to seventy years, or eighty, if one is especially strong. But even one’s best years are marred by trouble and oppression. Yes, they pass quickly and we fly away.

I thought about the days of old, about ancient times.

So he caused them to die unsatisfied and filled with terror.

Make us happy in proportion to the days you have afflicted us, in proportion to the years we have experienced trouble!

But you remain; your years do not come to an end.

You crown the year with your good blessings, and you leave abundance in your wake.

Then I said, “I am sickened by the thought that the sovereign One might become inactive.

For my life nears its end in pain; my years draw to a close as I groan. My strength fails me because of my sin, and my bones become brittle.

Give the king long life! Make his lifetime span several generations!

Yes, in your eyes a thousand years are like yesterday that quickly passes, or like one of the divisions of the nighttime.

Yes, throughout all our days we experience your raging fury; the years of our lives pass quickly, like a sigh.

I say, “O my God, please do not take me away in the middle of my life! You endure through all generations.

For forty years I was continually disgusted with that generation, and I said, ‘These people desire to go astray; they do not obey my commands.’