Cursed be the day I was born! The day that my mother bore me— may it never be blessed!
But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a broom bush. He prayed that he might die. “It’s too much!” he said. “Now, Adonai, take my life! For I’m no better than my fathers.”
After this, Job opened his mouth and cursed his day.
Oy to me, my mother, that you gave birth to me— a man of strife and conflict to all the land! I did not lend or borrow, yet everyone curses me.