For that night did not shut the doors of the womb to hide the sorrow from my eyes.

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

Why were there knees to receive me, and breasts that I should be nursed?

For now I would be lying down in peace; I would be asleep and at rest

with kings and counselors of the earth, who built for themselves cities now in ruins,

or with princes who had gold, who filled their houses with silver.

Or why was I not hidden like a stillborn child, like an infant who never sees daylight?

The captives enjoy their ease; they do not hear the voice of the oppressor.

Both small and great are there, and the slave is freed from his master.

Why is light given to the miserable, and life to the bitter of soul,

who rejoice and greatly exult when they reach the grave?

I sigh when food is put before me, and my groans pour out like water.

For distress does not spring from the dust, and trouble does not sprout from the ground.

However, if I were you, I would appeal to God and lay my cause before Him—

He gives rain to the earth and sends water upon the fields.

He sets the lowly on high, so that mourners are lifted to safety.

He thwarts the schemes of the crafty, so that their hands find no success.

He catches the wise in their craftiness, and sweeps away the plans of the cunning.

They encounter darkness by day and grope at noon as in the night.

He saves the needy from the sword in their mouth and from the clutches of the powerful.

So the poor have hope, and injustice shuts its mouth.

For He wounds, but He also binds; He strikes, but His hands also heal.

He will rescue you from six calamities; no harm will touch you in seven.

In famine He will redeem you from death, and in battle from the stroke of the sword.

You will laugh at destruction and famine, and need not fear the beasts of the earth.