Seventy years are given to us! Some may even reach eighty. But even the best of these years are filled with pain and trouble; soon they disappear, and we are gone. For our days on earth are like grass; like wildflowers, we bloom and die. We are like a breath of air; our days are like a passing shadow
Seventy years are given to us! Some may even reach eighty. But even the best of these years are filled with pain and trouble; soon they disappear, and we are gone. For our days on earth are like grass; like wildflowers, we bloom and die. We are li...