Job 3

1 After this Job began speaking, cursing the day of his birth.

After this, opened Job his mouth, and cursed his day.

2 He said,

So then Job began, and said:

3 “Wipe out the day I was born, and the night when it was announced that a boy had been conceived.

Perish, the day wherein I was born, and the night it was said, Lo! a manchild!

4 Turn that day to darkness. God above should not remember it. Don't let light shine on it.

That day, be it darkness, —Let not God enquire after it from above, May there shine upon it no clear beam:

5 Take it back, darkness and death-shadow. A black cloud should overshadow it. It should be as terrifying as the darkness of an eclipse during the day.

Let darkness and death-shade buy it back, May there settle down upon it a cloud, Let a day’s dark eclipse cause it terror:

6 Blot out that night as if it never existed. Don't count it on the calendar. Don't let it have a day in any month.

That night, darkness take it, —May it not rejoice among the days of the year, Into the number of months, let it not enter.

7 Let that night be childless, with no sounds of happiness heard.

Lo! that night, be it barren, Let no joyous shouting enter therein:

8 Those who place curses on certain days should curse it, those who have the power to raise Leviathan.

Let day-cursers denounce it, Those skilled in rousing the dragon of the sky:

9 Its early morning stars should stay dark. Looking for light, may none come, may it not see the glimmer of dawn

Darkened be the stars of its twilight, —Let it wait for light, and there be none, neither let it see the eyelashes of the dawn:

10 for it did not shut my mother's womb to prevent me from seeing trouble.

Because it closed not the doors of the womb wherein I was, and so hid trouble from mine eyes.

11 Why wasn't I stillborn? Why didn't I die at birth?

Wherefore, in the womb, did I not die? From the womb, come forth and cease to breathe?

12 Why was there a lap for me to lie on, or breasts for me to suck?

For what reason, were there prepared for me—knees? and why—breasts, that I might suck?

13 For now I would be lying down in peace. I would be sleeping and at rest,

Surely, at once, had I lain down, and been quiet, I had fallen asleep, then, had I been at rest:

14 along with the kings of this world and their officials whose palaces now lie in ruins,

With kings, and counselors of the earth, who had built them pyramids:

15 or with noblemen who collected gold and filled their houses with silver.

Or with rulers possessing, gold, —Who had filled their houses with silver:

16 Why wasn't I a miscarriage, buried in secret, a baby who never saw the light?

Or that, like an untimely birth hidden away, I had not come into being, like infants that never saw light:

17 There in the grave the wicked give no more trouble, and those whose strength is gone have their rest.

There, the lawless, cease from raging, and there the toil-worn are at rest:

18 There prisoners take it easy—they don't hear the commands of their oppressors.

At once are prisoners at peace, they hear not the voice of a driver:

19 Both small and great are there, and slaves are freed from their masters.

Small and great, there, they are, and, the slave, is free from his master.

20 Why does God give life to those who are suffering, living bitterly miserable lives,

Wherefore give, to the wretched, light? Or, life, to the embittered in soul?—

21 those who are waiting for death that does not come and who are looking for death more desperately than hunting for treasure?

Who long for death, and it is not, And have digged for it, beyond hid treasures:

22 They're so incredibly happy when the reach the grave!

Who rejoice unto exultation, Are glad, when they can find the grave:

23 Why is light given to someone who doesn't know where they're going, someone God has fenced in?

To a man, whose way is concealed, And GOD hath straitly enclosed him?

24 My groans are the bread I eat; my raging tears are the water I drink.

For, in the face of my food, my sighing, cometh in, and, poured out like the water, are my groans:

25 For all that I feared has happened to me; everything that I dreaded has come upon me.

For, a dread, I dreaded, and it hath come upon me, and, that from which I shrank, hath overtaken me.

26 I have no peace, no quiet, no rest. All that comes is rage.”

I was not careless, nor was I secure, nor had I settled down, —when there came—consternation!