CHAPTER 3

                ¹Afterward, Job opened his mouth and cursed his day. ²And Job spoke up and he said:

                ³Annul the day that I was born

                    and the night that said, “A man is conceived.”

                ⁴That day, let it be darkness.

                    Let God above not seek it out,

                          nor brightness shine upon it.

                ⁵Let darkness, death’s shadow, foul it,

                    let a cloud-mass rest upon it,

                          let day-gloom dismay it.

                ⁶That night, let murk overtake it.

                    Let it not join in the days of the year,

                          let it not enter the number of months.

                ⁷Oh, let that night be barren,

                    let it have no song of joy.

                ⁸Let the day-cursers hex it,

                    those ready to rouse Leviathan.

                ⁹Let its twilight stars go dark.

                    Let it hope for day in vain,

                          and let it not see the eyelids of dawn.

                ¹⁰For it did not shut the belly’s doors

                    to hide wretchedness from my eyes.

                ¹¹Why did I not die from the womb,

                    from the belly come out, breathe my last?

                ¹²Why did knees welcome me,

                    and why breasts, that I should suck?

                ¹³For now I would lie and be still,

                    would sleep and know repose

                ¹⁴with kings and the councillors of earth,

                    who build ruins for themselves,

                ¹⁵or with princes, possessors of gold,

                    who fill their houses with silver.

                ¹⁶Or like a buried stillborn I’d be,

                    like babes who never saw light.

                ¹⁷There the wicked cease their troubling,

                    and there the weary repose.

                ¹⁸All together the prisoners are tranquil,

                    they hear not the taskmaster’s voice.

                ¹⁹The small and the great are there,

                    and the slave is free of his master.

                ²⁰Why give light to the wretched

                    and life to the deeply embittered,

                ²¹who wait for death in vain,

                    dig for it more than for treasure,

                ²²who rejoice at the tomb,

                    are glad when they find the grave?

                ²³—To a man whose way is hidden,

                    and God has hedged him about.

                ²⁴For before my bread my moaning comes,

                    and my roar pours out like water.

                ²⁵For I feared a thing—it befell me,

                    what I dreaded came upon me.

                ²⁶I was not quiet, I was not still,

                    I had no repose, and trouble came.