AfterאַחֲרֵיthisכֵןJobאִיּוֹבopenedפָּתַחhis mouthאֶת פִּיהוּand cursedוַיְקַלֵּלhis day.אֶת יוֹמוֹ
Jobאִיּוֹבansweredוַיַּעַןand said:וַיֹּאמַר
“Let the dayיוֹםperishיֹאבַדon whichבּוֹI was born,אִוָּלֶדand the nightוְהַלַּיְלָהthat said,אָמַר‘A manגָבֶרis conceived.’הֹרָה
Thatהַהוּאday,הַיּוֹםlet it beיְהִיdarkness;חֹשֶׁךְmay Eloahאֱלוֹהַּaboveמִמָּעַלnotאַלseek it,יִדְרְשֵׁהוּnorוְאַלbrightnessנְהָרָהshineתּוֹפַעon it.עָלָיו
May darknessחֹשֶׁךְand the shadow of deathוְצַלְמָוֶתclaim it;יִגְאָלֻהוּmay a cloudעֲנָנָהsettleתִּשְׁכָּןon it;עָלָיוmay the darkeningsכִּמְרִירֵיof the dayיוֹםterrify it.יְבַעֲתֻהוּ
Thatהַהוּאnight,הַלַּיְלָהlet gloomאֹפֶלtake it;יִקָּחֵהוּlet it notאַלrejoiceיִחַדְּamong the daysבִּימֵיof the year;שָׁנָהinto the numberבְּמִסְפַּרof the monthsיְרָחִיםlet it notאַלcome.יָבֹא
Look,הִנֵּהthatהַהוּאnight,הַלַּיְלָהlet it beיְהִיbarren;גַלְמוּדlet noאַלshout of joyרְנָנָהcomeתָּבֹאinto it.בוֹ
Let those who curseאֹרְרֵיthe dayיוֹםcurse it,יִקְּבֻהוּthose who are readyהָעֲתִידִיםto rouseעֹרֵרLeviathan.לִוְיָתָן
Let the starsכּוֹכְבֵיof its twilightנִשְׁפּוֹbe dark;יֶחְשְׁכוּlet it hopeיְקַוfor lightלְאוֹרand there be none,וָאַיִןand may it notוְאַלseeיִרְאֶהthe eyelidsבְּעַפְעַפֵּיof the dawn,שָׁחַר
becauseכִּיit did notלֹאshutסָגַרthe doorsדַּלְתֵיof my bellyבִטְנִיand hideוַיַּסְתֵּרsufferingעָמָלfrom my eyes.מֵעֵינָי
Whyלָמָּהdid I notלֹּאdieאָמוּתfrom the womb,מֵרֶחֶםcome outיָצָאתִיfrom the bellyמִבֶּטֶןand expire?וְאֶגְוָע
Whyמַדּוּעַdid kneesבִרְכָּיִםreceive me,קִדְּמוּנִיand whyוּמַהbreasts,שָּׁדַיִםthatכִּיI should nurse?אִינָק
ForכִּיnowעַתָּהI would have lain downשָׁכַבְתִּיand been calm;וְאֶשְׁקוֹטI would have slept;יָשַׁנְתִּיthenאָזI would have restיָנוּחַ לִי
withעִםkingsמְלָכִיםand counselorsוְיֹעֲצֵיof the earth,אָרֶץwho builtהַבֹּנִיםruinsחֳרָבוֹתfor themselves,לָמוֹ
orאוֹwithעִםprincesשָׂרִיםwho hadלָהֶםgold,זָהָבwho filledהַמְמַלְאִיםtheir housesבָּתֵּיהֶםwith silver.כָּסֶף
Orאוֹlike a stillborn childכְנֵפֶלhiddenטָמוּןI would notלֹאbe,אֶהְיֶהlike infantsכְּעֹלְלִיםwho did notלֹאseeרָאוּlight.אוֹר
Thereשָׁםthe wickedרְשָׁעִיםcease fromחָדְלוּturmoil,רֹגֶזand thereוְשָׁםthe wearyיְגִיעֵיin strengthכֹחַrest.יָנוּחוּ
Togetherיַחַדthe prisonersאֲסִירִיםare untroubled;שַׁאֲנָנוּthey do notלֹאhearשָׁמְעוּthe voiceקוֹלof the taskmaster.נֹגֵשׂ
The smallקָטֹןand the greatוְגָדוֹלareהוּאthere,שָׁםand the slaveוְעֶבֶדis freeחָפְשִׁיfrom his master.מֵאֲדֹנָיו
Whyלָמָּהdoes he giveיִתֵּןlightאוֹרto the one who suffers,לְעָמֵלand lifeוְחַיִּיםto the bitterלְמָרֵיof soul,נָפֶשׁ
to those who waitהַמְחַכִּיםfor deathלַמָּוֶתand it is not there,וְאֵינֶנּוּand who dig for itוַיַּחְפְּרֻהוּmore than for hidden treasures,מִמַּטְמוֹנִים
to those who rejoiceהַשְּׂמֵחִיםto the point ofאֱלֵיexultation,גִילwho are gladיָשִׂישׂוּwhenכִּיthey findיִמְצְאוּthe grave,קָבֶר
to the manלְגֶבֶרwhoseאֲשֶׁרwayדַּרְכּוֹis hidden,נִסְתָּרָהand around whomוַ בַּעֲדוֹEloahאֱלוֹהַּhas put a hedge?יָּסֶךְ
Forכִּיbeforeלִפְנֵיmy breadלַחְמִיmy sighingאַנְחָתִיcomes,תָבֹאand my roaringsשַׁאֲגֹתָיpour outוַיִּתְּכוּlike water.כַמַּיִם
ForכִּיI dreadedפָּחַדְתִּיa dread,פַחַדand it came upon me,וַיֶּאֱתָיֵנִיand whatוַאֲשֶׁרI fearedיָגֹרְתִּיcomesיָבֹאto me.לִי
I have notלֹאbeen at ease,שָׁלַוְתִּיnorוְלֹאbeen calm,שָׁקַטְתִּיnorוְלֹאrested,נָחְתִּיand turmoilרֹגֶזhas come.”וַיָּבֹא