[1] The words of the Preacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem: [2]
"Vanity of vanities," says the Preacher; "Vanity of vanities, all is
vanity." [3] What does man gain from all his labor in which he labors under
the sun? [4] One generation goes, and another generation comes; but the
earth remains forever. [5] The sun also rises, and the sun goes down, and
hurries to its place where it rises. [6] The wind goes toward the south,
and turns around to the north. It turns around continually as it goes, and
the wind returns again to its courses. [7] All the rivers run into the sea,
yet the sea is not full. To the place where the rivers flow, there they
flow again. [8] All things are full of weariness beyond uttering. The eye
is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing. [9] That
which has been is that which shall be; and that which has been done is that
which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun. [10] Is there
a thing of which it may be said, "Behold, this is new?" It has been long
ago, in the ages which were before us. [11] There is no memory of the
former; neither shall there be any memory of the latter that are to come,
among those that shall come after. [12] I, the Preacher, was king over
Israel in Jerusalem. [13] I applied my heart to seek and to search out by
wisdom concerning all that is done under the sky. It is a heavy burden that
God has given to the sons of men to be afflicted with. [14] I have seen all
the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and a
chasing after wind. [15] That which is crooked can`t be made straight; and
that which is lacking can`t be counted. [16] I said to myself, "Behold, I
have obtained for myself great wisdom above all who were before me in
Jerusalem. Yes, my heart has had great experience of wisdom and knowledge."
[17] I applied my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly. I
perceived that this also was a chasing after wind. [18] For in much wisdom
is much grief; and he who increases knowledge increases sorrow.
