Toil Is Meaningless

¹⁷ 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.^{(A) 18} I hated all the things I had toiled for under the sun, because I must leave them to the one who comes after me.^{(B) 19} And who knows whether that person will be wise or foolish?^(C) Yet they will have control over all the fruit of my toil into which I have poured my effort and skill under the sun. This too is meaningless.