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So I hated life, because the work that is wrought under the sun was grievous unto me; for all is vanity and a striving after wind.
Therefore, I hated life because the work that was done under the sun was distressing to me. For everything is futile and a pursuit of the wind.
So I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me, for all is vanity and a striving after wind.
So I hated life, for the work which had been done under the sun was unhappy to me; because everything is futility and striving after wind.
So I hated life, because the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. All of it is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.
Therefore I hated life because the work that was done under the sun was distressing to me, for all is vanity and grasping for the wind.
So I came to hate life because everything done here under the sun is so troubling. Everything is meaningless—like chasing the wind.
So I hated life, because the work that is worked under the sun was grievous to me; for all is vanity and a chasing after wind.