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Chapter 3

Collection:The Book of Job and 42 Paintings
Author:Fr. Antonio Oteiza
Type:Painting
Location:Cataloguing Room
Characteristics: Acrylic paint on cardboard
Artwork:
Chapter 3

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Description:

Then Job opened his mouth and cursed the day of his birth, saying:

May the day I was born perish, and the night that said, “A boy has been conceived!”

May that day turn to darkness; may God above pay no heed to it; may no light shine upon it. May darkness and the shadow of death claim it; may a cloud settle over it; may an eclipse terrify it. May darkness seize that night; may it not be counted among the days of the year or enter into the number of the months. May that night remain barren and closed to cries of joy. May those who curse the day curse it, those skilled in rousing Leviathan. May the stars of its dawn be darkened; may it wait for light, but none come; may it never see the eyelids of the morning, because it did not close the doors of the womb upon me or hide so much misery from my eyes.

Why did I not die at birth or perish as I came from the womb?

Why was there a lap to receive me and breasts to nurse me?

For now I would be lying in peace; I would be asleep and at rest, like the kings and counsellors of the earth who rebuild ruined cities, or like nobles who possessed gold and filled their palaces with silver. Now I would be like a buried stillborn child, like an infant who never saw the light.

There the turmoil of the wicked comes to an end; there the weary find rest. Prisoners rest there together, no longer hearing the voice of the overseer. Small and great are there alike, and the slave is freed from his master.

Why is light given to the wretched and life to those who live in bitterness, to those who long for death, but it does not come, and dig for it more eagerly than for treasure; to those who would rejoice before the grave and delight in finding their burial place; to the man who can find no way forward because God has closed off his escape?

My sobs have become my food, and my groans pour out like water.

What I feared most has happened to me; what terrified me most has come upon me. I live without peace, without calm, without rest, in nothing but turmoil.

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