Liturgical Colour : Green
Job 7 : 1-4, 6-7
Man’s life on earth is a thankless job, his days are those of a mercenary. Like a slave he longs for the shade of evening, like a hireling waiting for his wages. Thus I am allotted months of boredom and nights of grief and misery. In bed I say, “When shall the day break?” On rising, I think, “When shall evening come?” and I toss restless till dawn.
My days pass swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, heading without hope to their end. My life is like wind, You well know it, o God; never will I see happiness again.