³ “Let the day of my birth be erased,
    and the night I was conceived.

¹⁴ Yet I curse the day I was born!
    May no one celebrate the day of my birth.
¹⁵ I curse the messenger who told my father,
    “Good news—you have a son!”
¹⁶ Let him be destroyed like the cities of old
    that the Lord overthrew without mercy.
Terrify him all day long with battle shouts,
¹⁷     because he did not kill me at birth.
Oh, that I had died in my mother’s womb,
    that her body had been my grave!
¹⁸ Why was I ever born?
    My entire life has been filled
    with trouble, sorrow, and shame.

“What sorrow is mine, my mother.
    Oh, that I had died at birth!
    I am hated everywhere I go.
I am neither a lender who threatens to foreclose
    nor a borrower who refuses to pay—
    yet they all curse me.”

¹⁸ “‘Why, then, did you deliver me from my mother’s womb?
    Why didn’t you let me die at birth?
¹⁹ It would be as though I had never existed,
    going directly from the womb to the grave.