71 "Human life is a struggle, isn't it? It's a life sentence to hard labor. 2 Like field hands longing for quitting time and working stiffs with nothing to hope for but payday, 3 I'm given a life that meanders and goes nowhere - months of aimlessness, nights of misery! 4 I go to bed and think, 'How long till I can get up?' I toss and turn as the night drags on - and I'm fed up! 5 I'm covered with maggots and scabs. My skin gets scaly and hard, then oozes with pus. 6 My days come and go swifter than the click of knitting needles, and then the yarn runs out - an unfinished life!
7 "God, don't forget that I'm only a puff of air! These eyes have had their last look at goodness. 8 And your eyes have seen the last of me; even while you're looking, there'll be nothing left to look at. 9 When a cloud evaporates, it's gone for good; those who go to the grave never come back. 10 They don't return to visit their families; never again will friends drop in for coffee. 11 "And so I'm not keeping one bit of this quiet, I'm laying it all out on the table; my complaining to high heaven is bitter, but honest. 12 Are you going to put a muzzle on me, the way you quiet the sea and still the storm? 13 If I say, 'I'm going to bed, then I'll feel better. A little nap will lift my spirits,' 14 You come and so scare me with nightmares and frighten me with ghosts 15 That I'd rather strangle in the bedclothes than face this kind of life any longer. 16 I hate this life! Who needs any more of this? Let me alone! There's nothing to my life - it's nothing but smoke.
17 "What are mortals anyway, that you bother with them, that you even give them the time of day? 18 That you check up on them every morning, looking in on them to see how they're doing? 19 Let up on me, will you? Can't you even let me spit in peace? 20 Even suppose I'd sinned - how would that hurt you? You're responsible for every human being. Don't you have better things to do than pick on me? Why make a federal case out of me? 21 Why don't you just forgive my sins and start me off with a clean slate? The way things are going, I'll soon be dead. You'll look high and low, but I won't be around."
31 Then Job broke the silence. He spoke up and cursed his fate: 2 3 "Obliterate the day I was born. Blank out the night I was conceived! 4 Let it be a black hole in space. May God above forget it ever happened. Erase it from the books! 5 May the day of my birth be buried in deep darkness, shrouded by the fog, swallowed by the night. 6 And the night of my conception - the devil take it! Rip the date off the calendar, delete it from the almanac. 7 Oh, turn that night into pure nothingness - no sounds of pleasure from that night, ever! 8 May those who are good at cursing curse that day. Unleash the sea beast, Leviathan, on it. 9 May its morning stars turn to black cinders, waiting for a daylight that never comes, never once seeing the first light of dawn. 10 And why? Because it released me from my mother's womb into a life with so much trouble.
11 "Why didn't I die at birth, my first breath out of the womb my last? 12 Why were there arms to rock me, and breasts for me to drink from? 13 I could be resting in peace right now, asleep forever, feeling no pain, 14 In the company of kings and statesmen in their royal ruins, 15 Or with princes resplendent in their gold and silver tombs. 16 Why wasn't I stillborn and buried with all the babies who never saw light, 17 Where the wicked no longer trouble anyone and bone-weary people get a long-deserved rest? 18 Prisoners sleep undisturbed, never again to wake up to the bark of the guards. 19 The small and the great are equals in that place, and slaves are free from their masters.
20 "Why does God bother giving light to the miserable, why bother keeping bitter people alive, 21 Those who want in the worst way to die, and can't, who can't imagine anything better than death, 22 Who count the day of their death and burial the happiest day of their life? 23 What's the point of life when it doesn't make sense, when God blocks all the roads to meaning? 24 "Instead of bread I get groans for my supper, then leave the table and vomit my anguish. 25 The worst of my fears has come true, what I've dreaded most has happened. 26 My repose is shattered, my peace destroyed. No rest for me, ever - death has invaded life."
