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Indeed, in your sight a thousand years are like a single day,
    like yesterday—already past—
    like an hour in the night.
You sweep mortals away.
    They are a dream.
    They sprout again in the morning like cut grass.
        In the morning they blossom and sprout.
        In the evening they wither and dry up.

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A thousand years in your sight
    are like a day that has just gone by,
    or like a watch in the night.(A)
Yet you sweep people away(B) in the sleep of death—
    they are like the new grass of the morning:
In the morning it springs up new,
    but by evening it is dry and withered.(C)

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