NASB
""Like a shepherd's tent my dwelling is pulled up and removed from me; As a weaver I rolled up my life. He cuts me off from the loom; From day until night You make an end of me."
— Isaiah 38:12, NASB
“Mine age is departed, and is removed from me as a shepherd’s tent: I have cut off like a weaver my life: he will cut me off with pining sickness: from day even to night wilt thou make an end of me.”
“My dwelling is removed, and is carried away from me as a shepherd’s tent: I have rolled up, like a weaver, my life; he will cut me off from the loom: From day even to night wilt thou make an end of me. ”
“My dwelling is removed, and is carried away from me like a shepherd's tent. I have rolled up, like a weaver, my life. He will cut me off from the loom. From day even to night you will make an end of me.”
“My dwelling place is removed and taken away from me like a shepherd’s tent. I rolled up my life like a weaver rolls cloth; from the loom he cuts me off. You turn day into night and end my life.”
“My generation is at an end, and it is rolled away from me, as a shepherd's tent. My life is cut off, as by a weaver: whilst I was yet but beginning, he cut me off: from morning even to night thou wilt make an end of me.”
“My resting-place is pulled up and taken away from me like a herdsman's tent: my life is rolled up like a linen-worker's thread; I am cut off from the cloth on the frame: from day even to night you give me up to pain.”
“Mine age is departed, and is removed from me as a shepherd’s tent: I have cut off like a weaver my life: he will cut me off with pining sickness: from day even to night wilt thou make an end of me.”
A writing of Hezekiah king of Judah after his illness and recovery:
I said, "In the middle of my life I am to enter the gates of Sheol; I am to be deprived of the rest of my years."
I said, "I will not see the LORD, The LORD in the land of the living; I will look on man no more among the inhabitants of the world.
"Like a shepherd's tent my dwelling is pulled up and removed from me; As a weaver I rolled up my life. He cuts me off from the loom; From day until night You make an end of me.
"I composed my soul until morning. Like a lion--so He breaks all my bones, From day until night You make an end of me.
"Like a swallow, like a crane, so I twitter; I moan like a dove; My eyes look wistfully to the heights; O Lord, I am oppressed, be my security.
"What shall I say? For He has spoken to me, and He Himself has done it; I will wander about all my years because of the bitterness of my soul.