Chapter 3

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

and this is what he said:

May the day perish on which I was born, and the night, in which it was said, “A man has been conceived.”

May that day be turned into darkness, may God not seek it from above, and may light not illuminate it.

Let darkness and the shadow of death obscure it, let a fog overtake it, and let it be enveloped in bitterness.

Let a whirlwind of darkness take hold of that night, let it not be counted in the days of the year, nor numbered in the months.

May that night be alone and unworthy of praise.

May they curse it, who curse the day, who are prepared to awaken a leviathan.

Let the stars be concealed with its darkness. Let it expect light, and not see it, nor the rising of the dawn in the East.

For it did not close the doors of the womb that bore me, nor take away evils from my eyes.

Why did I not die in the womb? Having left the womb, why did I not immediately perish?

Why was I received upon the knees? Why was I suckled at the breasts?

For by now, I should have been sleeping silently, and taking rest in my sleep

with the kings and consuls of the earth, who build themselves solitudes,

either with princes, who possess gold and fill their houses with silver,

or, like a hidden miscarriage, I should not have continued, just like those who, being conceived, have not seen the light.

There the impious cease from rebellion, and there the wearied in strength take rest.

And at such times, having been bound together without difficulty, they have not heard the voice of the bailiff.

The small and great are there, and the servant is free from his master.

Why is light given to the miserable, and life to those who are in bitterness of soul,

who expect death, and it does not arrive, like those who dig for treasure

and who rejoice greatly when they have found the grave,

to a man whose way is hidden and whom God has surrounded with darkness?

Before I eat, I sigh; and like overflowing waters, so is my howl,

for the terror that I feared has happened to me, and so has the dread befallen me.

Have I not remained hidden? Have I not kept silence? Have I not remained calm? Yet indignation has overcome me.