Job laments his birth
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Finally, Job spoke, and he cursed the day that he was born.
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“I wish that the day when I was born could be eradicated, the night when I was born.
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I wish that the day when I was born could have been dark. I wish that God who is in heaven would forget about that day, and that the sun would not have shone on it.
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I wish that thick darkness would have filled that day, and that death would have come over it like a shadow and blotted out all light, and caused the people then to be terrified.
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I wish that the night when I was born would be erased from the calendar, that it would never again appear as one night in any month, and that it would not be included in any calendar.
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I wish that no child would again be born on that date, and that no one would again be happy then.
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The magicians who are able to awaken the great sea monster, I want them to curse the day I was born.
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I wish that the stars that shone early in the morning on that day after I was born may not shine again. If only those stars had wished in vain for light to shine, and that they had not shone on that day.
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That was an evil day because my mother’s womb was not closed; instead, I was born, and I have now experienced all these terrible things.
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I wish that I had died when I was born; I wish I had perished when I came out from my mother’s womb.
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I wish that my mother had never welcomed me. I wish that she had not nursed me at her breasts.
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If I had died at the time when I was born, I would now be asleep, resting peacefully.
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I would be resting with kings who built beautiful tombs which are now in ruins, and I would be resting with their officials who have also died.
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I would be resting with princes who were wealthy, whose palaces were filled with gold and silver.
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I wish that I had been buried like a child who had died in its mother’s womb and never lived to see the light.
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After wicked people die, they do not cause any more troubles; those who are very tired now will rest.
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Those who were in prison rest peacefully after they die; they no longer have slave drivers who curse them.
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Rich people and poor people are alike after they die, and those who were slaves no longer have to obey their masters.
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Why does God allow those who are suffering greatly like me to continue to remain alive? Why does he allow them to live, those who are very miserable?
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They long to die, but they do not die. They desire to die more than people desire to find hidden treasure.
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When they finally die and are buried, they are very happy.
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I do not understand why God keeps alive anyone whom he keeps from being happy, anyone whom he forces to live in misery.
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I cry very much; as a result, I cannot eat; I groan as easily as a river flows with water.
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Things that I always worried might happen to me, these things have happened to me; things that I always dreaded have come upon me.
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Now I have no peace in my heart; I have no quietness; I cannot rest; instead, I have only troubles.”
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