Man is born of woman, His days are few, and full of trouble; He springs up like a flower and withers And disappears like a fleeing shadow.
If only You would hide me in the grave, Conceal me until Your anger has passed; Then I will answer You when You call my name, When You long for the one Your hands have made.
All the days of my struggle I will wait for my change, I will wait for my change to come. Only do not hide Your face from me, Don't take Your hand away, Don't take Your hand away. I will wait for my change to come.
From the dust You have made me, And to the dust I will return. Surely You will count all my steps, But will not keep watch for my sin.
The falling mountains crumble away, The water ears away the stones. Its torrents wash away the dust of the earth. Only in You will I hope.