Job begins with a meditation on human life: man who is born of woman is few of days and full of trouble. He comes out like a flower and withers, flees like a shadow and does not last. He wonders whether God opens his eyes on such a one and brings him into judgment. No one can bring a clean thing out of an unclean. His days and months are numbered by God, within bounds he cannot pass. Job asks God to look away and let him rest, like a hired worker, until his day is done.
Then he contrasts man with a tree. There is hope for a tree: if it is cut down, it will sprout again; though its root grows old in the earth and its stump dies in the soil, at the scent of water it will bud and put out branches like a young plant. But a man dies and is laid low; he breathes his last, and where is he? As waters fail from a lake and a river wastes away and dries up, so a man lies down and does not rise; until the heavens are no more he will not awake or be roused from his sleep.
Then Job voices a longing: oh that God would hide him in Sheol and conceal him until his wrath is past, and set a time to remember him. He asks whether a man, if he dies, shall live again; all the days of his service he would wait until his renewal came. Then God would call and he would answer, and God would long for the work of his hands. Now God counts his steps, but then he would not keep watch over his sin; his transgression would be sealed up in a bag and God would cover over his iniquity.
But the chapter ends in discouragement: mountains crumble, water wears away stones and floods wash away the soil, and so God destroys the hope of man. He prevails forever against him, and the man passes away. His sons come to honor and he does not know it. He feels only the pain of his own body.