14 “Mortals, born of woman,^(A)
    are of few days^(B) and full of trouble.^(C)

² They spring up like flowers^(A) and wither away;^(B)
    like fleeting shadows,^(C) they do not endure.^(D)

⁴ “Show me, Lord, my life’s end
    and the number of my days;^(A)
    let me know how fleeting^(B) my life is.^(C)

⁵ You have made my days^(A) a mere handbreadth;
    the span of my years is as nothing before you.
Everyone is but a breath,^(B)
    even those who seem secure.^[a]

⁹ All our days pass away under your wrath;
    we finish our years with a moan.^(A)

“All people are like grass,
    and all their glory is like the flowers of the field;
the grass withers and the flowers fall,