Surely man walketh as a mere semblance; surely for vanity they are in turmoil; he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them.
And now, L-rd, what wait I for? My hope, it is in Thee.
Deliver me from all my transgressions; make me not the reproach of the base.
I am dumb, I open not my mouth; because Thou hast done it.
Remove Thy stroke from off me; I am consumed by the blow of Thy hand.
With rebukes dost Thou chasten man for iniquity, and like a moth Thou makest his beauty to consume away; surely every man is vanity. Selah
Hear my prayer, O HaShem, and give ear unto my cry; keep not silence at my tears; for I am a stranger with Thee, a sojourner, as all my fathers were.
Look away from me, that I may take comfort, before I go hence, and be no more.'