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3:1  Finally, Job cursed the day of his birth
3:2  by saying to God:
3:3  Blot out the day of my birth and the night when my parents created a son.
3:4  Forget about that day, cover it with darkness,
3:5  and send thick, gloomy shadows to fill it with dread.
3:6  Erase that night from the calendar and conceal it with darkness.
3:7  Don't let children be created or joyful shouts be heard ever again in that night.
3:8  Let those with magic powers place a curse on that day.
3:9  Darken its morning stars and remove all hope of light,
3:10  because it let me be born into a world of trouble.
3:11  Why didn't I die at birth?
3:12  Why was I accepted and allowed to nurse at my mother's breast?
3:13  Now I would be at peace in the silent world below
3:14  with kings and their advisors whose palaces lie in ruins,
3:15  and with rulers once rich with silver and gold.
3:16  I wish I had been born dead and then buried, never to see the light of day.
3:17  In the world of the dead, the wicked and the weary rest without a worry. *
3:18  Everyone is there—
3:19  where captives and slaves are free at last.
3:20  Why does God let me live when life is miserable and so bitter?
3:21  I keep longing for death more than I would seek a valuable treasure.
3:22  Nothing could make me happier than to be in the grave.
3:23  Why do I go on living when God has me surrounded, and I can't see the road?
3:24  Moaning and groaning are my food and drink,
3:25  and my worst fears have all come true.
3:26  I have no peace or rest— only troubles and worries.