Job.
Chapter 3.
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!”