Lo, all my days are vanished, of a truth, in vanity, as it is written and my years also are in vain; and now the snares of death, which of a truth are bitter, have entangled my soul, and have compassed me round about.
Ecce, dies mei fugit vere frustra sunt, sicut scriptum est, et anni mei in vanum et laquei mortis, quae vere amaricant inseruerunt animam meam, et circumdedisti me per circuitum.