Job 3

_2-3O God, put a curse on the day I was born;

put a curse on the night when I was conceived!

₄Turn that day into darkness, God.

Never again remember that day;

never again let light shine on it.

₅Make it a day of gloom and thick darkness;

cover it with clouds, and blot out the sun.

₆Blot that night out of the year,

and never let it be counted again;

₇make it a barren, joyless night.

₈Tell the sorcerers to curse that day,

those who know how to control Leviathan.

₉Keep the morning star from shining;

give that night no hope of dawn.

₁₀Curse that night for letting me be born,

for exposing me to trouble and grief.

₁₁I wish I had died in my mother's womb

or died the moment I was born.

₁₂Why did my mother hold me on her knees?

Why did she feed me at her breast?

₁₃If I had died then, I would be at rest now,

₁₄sleeping like the kings and rulers

who rebuilt ancient palaces.

₁₅Then I would be sleeping like princes

who filled their houses with gold and silver,

₁₆or sleeping like a stillborn child.

₁₇In the grave wicked people stop their evil,

and tired workers find rest at last.

₁₈Even prisoners enjoy peace,

free from shouts and harsh commands.

₁₉Everyone is there, the famous and the unknown,

and slaves at last are free.

₂₀Why let people go on living in misery?

Why give light to those in grief?

₂₁They wait for death, but it never comes;

they prefer a grave to any treasure.

₂₂They are not happy till they are dead and buried;

₂₃God keeps their future hidden

and hems them in on every side.

₂₄Instead of eating, I mourn,

and I can never stop groaning.

₂₅Everything I fear and dread comes true.

₂₆I have no peace, no rest,

and my troubles never end.