The Holy Bible – Knox Translation
The Book of Job
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Chapter 3
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At last, Job himself broke into utterance, and fell to cursing the day on which he was born.
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And this was his plaint:
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Blotted out for ever be the day of my birth; that night, too, which gave word that a human life had been conceived in the womb!
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Plunged be that day in darkness; may God on high forget it, and grant it never shine of sun;
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shades, like the shades of death, claim it for their own; deep gloom lie heavy on it, and wrap it all in desolation.
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Shrouded be that night in a black storm, let it not be reckoned among the days of the year, nor marked in the moon’s calendar;
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a night doomed to exile, a night that never wakes the sound of praise.
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Wizards that can overcast the sun, and rouse old Chaos from his lair, on that night lay your ban;
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blacken its starlight, let it wait for the morning light, and see it never, nor break of rising dawn;
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the night that should have closed the doors of the womb against me, shut these eyes forever to sights of woe!
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Had but the womb been the tomb of me, had I died at birth,
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had no lap ever cherished me, no breast suckled me,
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all would be rest now, all would be silence. Deeply I would take my repose,
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with the old kings and senators, that once restored cities for their whim,✻
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the chieftains that had such wealth of gold, houses full of silver;
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with babe still-born and babe unborn, hidden away in the sunless grave.
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There the unquietness of the wicked is stilled, and the weary are at rest;
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untroubled the thrall sleeps, his tyrant’s bidding cannot reach him now;
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master and slave are there, and the slave masterless.
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Why should they see the light, that groan to see it; why should they live, that must live in bitterness of soul?
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Why should they be like treasure-seekers, longing for the death that still cheats them,
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a grave the prize they covet?
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Such men as I, that must tread blindfold in a maze of God’s making!
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Ever as I sit down to meat the sighs come, grief floods over me unrestrained.
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Must I have nothing left to daunt me? Must each calamity be felt as soon as feared?
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And still I kept my own counsel, still patient and silent I, till my angry mood overcame me at last.✻
