| Chapter 3 |
1 |
After this hath Job opened his mouth, and revileth his day. |
2 |
And Job answereth and saith: -- |
3 |
Let the day perish in which I am born, And the night that hath said: `A man-child hath been conceived.` |
4 |
That day -- let it be darkness, Let not God require it from above, Nor let light shine upon it. |
5 |
Let darkness and death-shade redeem it, Let a cloud tabernacle upon it, Let them terrify it as the most bitter of days. |
6 |
That night -- let thick darkness take it, Let it not be united to days of the year, Into the number of months let it not come. |
7 |
Lo! that night -- let it be gloomy, Let no singing come into it. |
8 |
Let the cursers of day mark it, Who are ready to wake up Leviathan. |
9 |
Let the stars of its twilight be dark, Let it wait for light, and there is none, And let it not look on the eyelids of the dawn. |
10 |
Because it hath not shut the doors Of the womb that was mine! And hide misery from mine eyes. |
11 |
Why from the womb do I not die? From the belly I have come forth and gasp! |
12 |
Wherefore have knees been before me? And what are breasts, that I suck? |
13 |
For now, I have lain down, and am quiet, I have slept -- then there is rest to me, |
14 |
With kings and counsellors of earth, These building wastes for themselves. |
15 |
Or with princes -- they have gold, They are filling their houses with silver. |
16 |
(Or as a hidden abortion I am not, As infants -- they have not seen light.) |
17 |
There the wicked have ceased troubling, And there rest do the wearied in power. |
18 |
Together prisoners have been at ease, They have not heard the voice of an exactor, |
19 |
Small and great are there the same. And a servant is free from his lord. |
20 |
Why giveth He to the miserable light, and life to the bitter soul? |
21 |
Who are waiting for death, and it is not, And they seek it above hid treasures. |
22 |
Who are glad -- unto joy, They rejoice when they find a grave. |
23 |
To a man whose way hath been hidden, And whom God doth shut up? |
24 |
For before my food, my sighing cometh, And poured out as waters are my roarings. |
25 |
For a fear I feared and it meeteth me, And what I was afraid of doth come to me. |
26 |
I was not safe -- nor was I quiet -- Nor was I at rest -- and trouble cometh! |