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One day the angels came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan also came with them.
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One day when Job’s sons and daughters were feasting and drinking wine at the oldest brother’s house,
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On another day the angels came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan also came with them to present himself before him.
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Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.
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Job Speaks
After this, Job opened his mouth and cursed the day of his birth.
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“May the day of my birth perish, and the night that said, ‘A boy is conceived!’
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That day—may it turn to darkness; may God above not care about it; may no light shine on it.
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That night—may thick darkness seize it; may it not be included among the days of the year nor be entered in any of the months.
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May those who curse days curse that day, those who are ready to rouse Leviathan.
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May its morning stars become dark; may it wait for daylight in vain and not see the first rays of dawn,
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Or why was I not hidden away in the ground like a stillborn child, like an infant who never saw the light of day?
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Darkness comes upon them in the daytime; at noon they grope as in the night.
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“Do not mortals have hard service on earth? Are not their days like those of hired laborers?
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“My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and they come to an end without hope.
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I despise my life; I would not live forever. Let me alone; my days have no meaning.
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for we were born only yesterday and know nothing, and our days on earth are but a shadow.
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“My days are swifter than a runner; they fly away without a glimpse of joy.
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Are your days like those of a mortal or your years like those of a strong man,
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Are not my few days almost over? Turn away from me so I can have a moment’s joy
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“Mortals, born of woman, are of few days and full of trouble.
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A person’s days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.
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If someone dies, will they live again? All the days of my hard service I will wait for my renewal to come.
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All his days the wicked man suffers torment, the ruthless man through all the years stored up for him.
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He wanders about for food like a vulture; he knows the day of darkness is at hand.
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My spirit is broken, my days are cut short, the grave awaits me.
