7
Oh, may that night be barren! May no joyful shout come into it!
8
May those curse it who curse the day, Those who are ready to arouse Leviathan.
9
May the stars of its morning be dark; May it look for light, but have none, And not see the dawning of the day;
10
Because it did not shut up the doors of my mother's womb, Nor hide sorrow from my eyes.
11
"Why did I not die at birth? Why did I not perish when I came from the womb?
12
Why did the knees receive me? Or why the breasts, that I should nurse?
13
For now I would have lain still and been quiet, I would have been asleep; Then I would have been at rest
14
With kings and counselors of the earth, Who built ruins for themselves,
15
Or with princes who had gold, Who filled their houses with silver;
16
Or why was I not hidden like a stillborn child, Like infants who never saw light?
17
There the wicked cease from troubling, And there the weary are at rest.