For all his days[ are] sorrows, and his travail grief; yea, his heart taketh not rest in the night. This is also vanity.

因为他日日忧虑，他的劳苦成为愁烦，连夜间心也不安。这也是虚空。

他日日忧虑，他的劳苦成为愁烦，连夜间心也不得休息。这也是虚空。

他日日忧虑，他的劳苦成为愁烦，连夜间心也不得休息。这也是虚空。

他们一生充满痛苦，劳碌中尽是愁烦，即使夜间心里也不安宁。这也是虚空。

其实终其一生，他的担子既痛苦又烦恼，在夜间也不能安心。这也是虚空。

其实他一生的日子都是痛苦，他的事务都是烦恼，他的心甚至在夜间也不得安息。这也是虚空！

因為他日日憂慮，他的勞苦成為愁煩，連夜間心也不安。這也是虛空。

他日日憂慮，他的勞苦成為愁煩，連夜間心也不得休息。這也是虛空。

他日日憂慮，他的勞苦成為愁煩，連夜間心也不得休息。這也是虛空。

他們一生充滿痛苦，勞碌中盡是愁煩，即使夜間心裡也不安寧。這也是虛空。

其實終其一生，他的擔子既痛苦又煩惱，在夜間也不能安心。這也是虛空。

因為他一生的日子都是痛苦，他的勞苦便是愁苦；連夜間他的心也不能偃息：這也是虛空。

其實他一生的日子都是痛苦，他的事務都是煩惱，他的心甚至在夜間也不得安息。這也是虛空！

畢生憂戚、所勞皆為愁苦、夜不心安、斯亦虛空、○

終日勞苦、終夜不安、亦屬於虛。

終日憂愁、諸事煩惱、其心夜亦不安、此亦屬於虛、

All their days their work is grief and pain; even at night their minds do not rest. This too is meaningless.

As long as they live, their work is nothing but pain and sorrow. Even at night their minds can’t rest. That doesn’t have any meaning either.

For all his days are full of sorrow, and his work is a vexation. Even in the night his heart does not rest. This also is vanity.

Their days of labor are filled with pain and grief; even at night their minds cannot rest. It is all meaningless.

For all his days are filled with grief, and his occupation is sorrowful; even at night, his mind does not rest. This too is futile.

Because all his days his activity is painful and irritating; even at night his mind does not rest. This too is futility.

For all his days are sorrowful, and his work burdensome; even in the night his heart takes no rest. This also is vanity.

For all his days are but sorrows, and his travail is grief; yea, even in the night his heart taketh no rest. This also is vanity.

For all his days are filled with grief, and his occupation is sorrowful; even at night, his mind does not rest. This too is futile.

For all day long his work produces pain and frustration, and even at night his mind cannot relax! This also is futile!

For all his days are sorrows, and his travail is grief; yes, even in the night his heart takes no rest. This also is vanity.

Man[ that is] born of a woman[ is] of few days, and full of trouble.

Yet man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward.

When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint;Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions:

[ It is] vain for you to rise up early, to sit up late, to eat the bread of sorrows:[ for] so he giveth his beloved sleep.

For day and night thy hand was heavy upon me: my moisture is turned into the drought of summer. Selah.

Then the king went to his palace, and passed the night fasting: neither were instruments of musick brought before him: and his sleep went from him.

Confirming the souls of the disciples,[ and] exhorting them to continue in the faith, and that we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God.

Make us glad according to the days[ wherein] thou hast afflicted us,[ and] the years[ wherein] we have seen evil.

On that night could not the king sleep, and he commanded to bring the book of records of the chronicles; and they were read before the king.

For we are consumed by thine anger, and by thy wrath are we troubled.Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, our secret[ sins] in the light of thy countenance.For all our days are passed away in thy wrath: we spend our years as a tale[ that is told].The days of our years[ are] threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength[ they be] fourscore years, yet[ is] their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.

In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord: my sore ran in the night, and ceased not: my soul refused to be comforted.I remembered God, and was troubled: I complained, and my spirit was overwhelmed. Selah.Thou holdest mine eyes waking: I am so troubled that I cannot speak.

And Jacob said unto Pharaoh, The days of the years of my pilgrimage[ are] an hundred and thirty years: few and evil have the days of the years of my life been, and have not attained unto the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage.

I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears.Mine eye is consumed because of grief; it waxeth old because of all mine enemies.

The sleep of a labouring man[ is] sweet, whether he eat little or much: but the abundance of the rich will not suffer him to sleep.

For in much wisdom[ is] much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.