The Book of Job

⭑ Literal Standard Version :: World English Bible Catholic ⭑

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- Chapter 3 -

Job laments his birth

After this Job has opened his mouth, and reviles his day.

And Job answers and says:

“Let the day perish in which I am born, || And the night that has said: A man-child has been conceived.

That day—let it be darkness, || Do not let God require it from above, || Nor let light shine on it.

Let darkness and death-shade redeem it, || Let a cloud dwell on it, || Let them terrify it as the most bitter of days.

That night—let thick darkness take it, || Let it not be united to days of the year, || Let it not come into the number of months.

Behold! That night—let it be barren, || Let no singing come into it.

Let the cursers of day mark it, || Who are ready to wake up Leviathan.

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.

Because it has not shut the doors || Of the womb that was mine! And hide misery from my eyes.

Why do I not die from the womb? I have come forth from the belly and gasp!

Why have knees been before me? And what [are] breasts, that I suck?

For now, I have lain down, and am quiet, I have slept—then there is rest to me,

With kings and counselors of earth, || These building ruins for themselves.

Or with princes—they have gold, || They are filling their houses [with] silver.

(Or I am not as a hidden abortion, || As infants—they have not seen light.)

There the wicked have ceased troubling, || And there the wearied rest in power.

Together prisoners have been at ease, || They have not heard the voice of an exactor,

Small and great [are] the same there. And a servant [is] free from his lord.

Why does He give light to the miserable, and life to the bitter soul?

Who are waiting for death, and it is not, || And they seek it above hid treasures.

Who are glad—to joy, || They rejoice when they find a grave.

To a man whose way has been hidden, || And whom God shuts up?

For before my food, my sighing comes, || And my roarings [are] poured out as waters.

For I feared a fear and it meets me, || And what I was afraid of comes to me.

I was not safe—nor was I quiet—Nor was I at rest—and trouble comes!”

Job laments his birth

After this Job opened his mouth, and cursed the day of his birth.

Job answered:

“Let the day perish in which I was born, the night which said, ‘There is a boy conceived.’

Let that day be darkness. Don’t let God from above seek for it, neither let the light shine on it.

Let darkness and the shadow of death claim it for their own. Let a cloud dwell on it. Let all that makes the day black terrify it.

As for that night, let thick darkness seize on it. Let it not rejoice among the days of the year. Let it not come into the number of the months.

Behold, let that night be barren. Let no joyful voice come therein.

Let them curse it who curse the day, who are ready to rouse up leviathan.

Let the stars of its twilight be dark. Let it look for light, but have none, neither let it see the eyelids of the morning,

because it didn’t shut up the doors of my mother’s womb, nor did it hide trouble from my eyes.

“Why didn’t I die from the womb? Why didn’t I give up the spirit when my mother bore me?

Why did the knees receive me? Or why the breast, that I should nurse?

For now I should have lain down and been quiet. I should have slept, then I would have been at rest,

with kings and counselors of the earth, who built up waste places for themselves;

or with princes who had gold, who filled their houses with silver;

or as a hidden untimely birth I had not been, as infants who never saw light.

There the wicked cease from troubling. There the weary are at rest.

There the prisoners are at ease together. They don’t hear the voice of the taskmaster.

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

“Why is light given to him who is in misery, life to the bitter in soul,

who long for death, but it doesn’t come; and dig for it more than for hidden treasures,

who rejoice exceedingly, and are glad, when they can find the grave?

Why is light given to a man whose way is hidden, whom God has hedged in?

For my sighing comes before I eat. My groanings are poured out like water.

For the thing which I fear comes on me, that which I am afraid of comes to me.

I am not at ease, neither am I quiet, neither do I have rest; but trouble comes.”