I. Tenebrarum

II. Stigma

III. Non silui, non quievi

IV. Non apparet

I. Tenebrarum (Job 10, 18-23)

Why did you bring me out of the womb?
I should have perished then, unseen by any eye, a being that had never been,
to be carried from womb to grave.
The days of my life are few enough:
turn your eyes away, leave me a little joy, before I go to the place of no return,
the land of murk and deep shadow,
where dimness and disorder hold sway,
and light itself is like the dead of night.

II. Stigma (Isaiah 3, 18-26)

That day the Lord will take away the ankle ornaments, tiaras, pendants and bracelets, the veils, headbands, foot chains, and belts, the scent bottles and amulets, signet rings and nose rings, the expensive dresses, mantles, cloaks and purses, the mirrors, linen garments, turbans and mantillas.
Instead of scent, a stink;

instead of belt, a rope;
instead of hair elaborately done, a shaven scalp, and instead of gorgeous dress, a sack;
and brand marks instead of beauty.

Your men will fall by the sword, your heroes in the fight.
The gates will moan and mourn; you will sit on the ground desolate.

III. Non silui, non quievi (Job 3, 1-26)

In the end it was Job who broke the silence and cursed the day of his birth. This is what he said:
“May the day perish when I was born,
and the night that told of a boy conceived.

May that day be darkness,
may God on high have no thought for it,
may no light shine on it.
May murk and deep shadow claim it for their own, clouds hang over it,
eclipse swoop down on it.
Yes, let the dark lay hold of it,
to the days of the year let it not be joined,
into the reckoning of months not find its way.
May that night be dismal,
no shout of joy come near it.
Let them curse it who curse the day,
who are prepared to rouse the Leviathan.
Dark be the stars of its morning,
let it wait in vain for light
and never see the opening eyes of dawn.
Since it would not shut the doors of the womb on me to hide sorrow from my eyes.

Why did I not die new-born,
not perish as I left the womb?
Why were there two knees to receive me,
two breasts for me to suck?
Had there not been, I should now be lying in peace, wrapped in restful slumber,
with the kings and high viziers of earth
who build themselves vast vaults,
or with princes who have gold and to spare
and houses crammed with silver.

Down there, bad men bustle no more, there the weary rest.
Prisoners, all left in peace,
hear no more the shouts of the gaoler. Down there, high and low are all one, and the slave is free of his master.

Why give light to a man of grief?
Why give life to those bitter of heart,
who long for a death that never comes,
and hunt for it more than for a buried treasure?
They would be glad to see the grave-mound
and shout with joy if they reached the tomb.
Why make this gift of light to a man who does not see his way, whom God baulks on every side?

My only food is sighs,
and my groans pour out like water. Whatever I fear comes true, whatever I dread befalls me.
For me, there is no calm, no peace; my torments banish rest.

IV. Non apparet (Job 23, 8-10)

If I go eastward, he is not there;
or westward – still I cannot see him.
If I seek him in the north, he is not to be found, invisible still when I turn to the south.
And yet he knows of every step I take!