1 After this, Job opened his mouth and cursed the day of his birth.
and the night that said, ‘A boy is conceived!’
may God above not care about it;
may no light shine on it.
may a cloud settle over it;
may blackness overwhelm it.
may it not be included among the days of the year
nor be entered in any of the months.
may no shout of joy be heard in it.
those who are ready to rouse Leviathan.
may it wait for daylight in vain
and not see the first rays of dawn,
to hide trouble from my eyes.
and die as I came from the womb?
and breasts that I might be nursed?
I would be asleep and at rest
who built for themselves places now lying in ruins,
who filled their houses with silver.
like an infant who never saw the light of day?
and there the weary are at rest.
they no longer hear the slave driver’s shout.
and the slaves are freed from their owners.
and life to the bitter of soul,
who search for it more than for hidden treasure,
and rejoice when they reach the grave?
whose way is hidden,
whom God has hedged in?
my groans pour out like water.
what I dreaded has happened to me.
I have no rest, but only turmoil.”