Job 10:18–20

¹⁴¶ Cursed be the day wherein I was born: let not the day wherein my mother bare me be blessed.

¹⁵Cursed be the man who brought tidings to my father, saying, A man child is born unto thee; making him very glad.

¹⁶And let that man be as the cities which the Lord overthrew, and repented not: and let him hear the cry in the morning, and the shouting at noontide;

¹⁷Because he slew me not from the womb; or that my mother might have been my grave, and her womb to be always great with me.

¹⁸Wherefore came I forth out of the womb to see labour and sorrow, that my days should be consumed with shame?

¹⁰¶ Woe is me, my mother, that thou hast borne me a man of strife and a man of contention to the whole earth! I have neither lent on usury, nor men have lent to me on usury; yet every one of them doth curse me.

²⁰But the eyes of the wicked shall fail, and they shall not escape, and their hope shall be as the giving up of the ghost.

¹⁰But man dieth, and wasteth away: yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is he?

¹⁰Because it shut not up the doors of my mother’s womb, nor hid sorrow from mine eyes.

¹¹Why died I not from the womb? why did I not give up the ghost when I came out of the belly?

²⁴The Son of man goeth as it is written of him: but woe unto that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed! it had been good for that man if he had not been born.

⁸As a snail which melteth, let every one of them pass away: like the untimely birth of a woman, that they may not see the sun.

¹MAN that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble.

¹³O spare me, that I may recover strength, before I go hence, and be no more.

²¹Withdraw thine hand far from me: and let not thy dread make me afraid.

¹⁶I loathe it; I would not live alway: let me alone; for my days are vanity.

¹⁷What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him?

¹⁸And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, and try him every moment?

¹⁹How long wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?

²⁰I have sinned; what shall I do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? why hast thou set me as a mark against thee, so that I am a burden to myself?

²¹And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? for now shall I sleep in the dust; and thou shalt seek me in the morning, but I shall not be.

⁶My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and are spent without hope.

⁷O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good.

⁹(For we are but of yesterday, and know nothing, because our days upon earth are a shadow:)

²⁵Now my days are swifter than a post: they flee away, they see no good.

²⁶They are passed away as the swift ships: as the eagle that hasteth to the prey.

¹⁵As for man, his days are as grass: as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth.

¹⁶For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more.

⁵Behold, thou hast made my days as an handbreadth; and mine age is as nothing before thee: verily every man at his best state is altogether vanity. Selah.