Cursed be the day on which I was born.a The day my mother bore me- let it never be blessed.
Cursed be the man who brought the news to my father, saying, "A male child is born to you," bringing him great joy.
Let that man be like the cities the Lord overthrew without compassion. Let him hear an outcry in the morning and a war cry at noontime
because he didn't kill me in the womb so that my mother might have been my grave, her womb eternally pregnant.
Why did I come out of the womb to see [only] struggle and sorrow, to end my life in shame?