Afterward, Job spoke up and cursed the day he was born.
Perish the day I was born, the night someone said, "A boy has been conceived."
That day—let it be darkness; may God above ignore it, and light not shine on it.
May deepest darkness claim it and a cloud linger over it; may all that darkens the day terrify it.
May gloom seize that night; may it not be counted in the days of a year; may it not appear in the months.
May that night be childless; may no happy singing come in it.
May those who curse the day curse it, those with enough skill to awaken Leviathan.
May its evening stars stay dark; may it wait in vain for light; may it not see dawn's gleam,
because it didn't close the doors of my mother's womb,a didn't hide trouble from my eyes.
Why didn't I die at birth, come forth from the womb and die?
Why did knees receive me and breasts let me nurse?
For now I would be lying down quietly; I'd sleep; rest would be mine
with kings and earth's advisors, who rebuild ruins for themselves,
or with princes who have gold, who fill their houses with silver.
Or why wasn't I like a buried miscarried infant, like babies who never see light?
There the wicked rage no more; there the weak rest.
Prisoners are entirely at ease; they don't hear a boss's voice.
Both small and great are there; a servant is free from his masters.
Why is light given to the hard worker, life to those bitter of soul,
those waiting in vain for death, who search for it more than for treasure,
who rejoice excitedly, who are thrilled when they find a grave?
Why is light givenb to the person whose way is hidden, whom God has fenced in?
My groans become my bread; my roars pour out like water.
Because I was afraid of something awful, and it arrived; what I dreaded came to me.
I had no ease, quiet, or rest, and trembling came.