My days are like lengthening shadows, and I wither away like grass.
Like a flower, he comes forth, then withers away; like a fleeting shadow, he does not endure.
I am fading away like a lengthening shadow; I am shaken off like a locust.
Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow.
For, “All flesh is like grass, and all its glory like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall,
But the one who is rich should exult in his low position, because he will pass away like a flower of the field.
You do not even know what will happen tomorrow! What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and th
A voice says, “Cry out!” And I asked, “What should I cry out?” “All flesh is like grass, and all its glory like the flow
For my days vanish like smoke, and my bones burn like glowing embers.
For who knows what is good for a man during the few days in which he passes through his fleeting life like a shadow? Who
You, indeed, have made my days as handbreadths, and my lifetime as nothing before You. Truly each man at his best exists