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14 Cursed be the day that I was born.
    May the day my mother gave birth to me not be blessed.
15 Cursed be the one
    who delivered the news to my father,
        “You have a son!”—
        filling him with joy.
16 May the bearer of that news be like the cities
    that the Lord destroyed without mercy.
May he hear screams in the morning,
    and the battle cries at noon,
17     because he didn’t kill me in the womb
        and let my mother become my grave,
        her womb pregnant forever.
18 Why was I ever born
    when all I see is suffering and misery,
        and my days are filled with shame?

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