A mortal born of woman few of days and full of pain.
Appears and disappears much like a zephyr or the rain.
Persistence of existence is indefinite at best,
and cleanliness, impossible at anyone’s behest.
—–
A tree lives on beneath the ground though naught remains above.
Some water at its root will cause a sawn-off stump to bud.
But mortals are laid low and die, expire and don’t return.
Our days and months are numbered, and we all too soon pass on.
—–
As rivers waste away and lakes are drained by means unknown,
dead mortals do not rise again, we’ve no life of our own.
So hide my life, conceal me, till your fearsome wrath has passed.
I shall await your summons and release will come, at last.
———-
Image: Licensed by Storyblocks.com
Source: Job 14:1-14
Text: David Alexander, 2022, CC BY SA-NC 4,0
Tune: St. Leonard’s, Public Domain
Score: https://www.smallchurchmusic.com/2011/Score/TheGalileanFishers-StLeonards.pdf
Audio: www.smallchurchmusic,com Used by Permission
Aboksu 