Blot out the day of my birth and the night when my parents created a daughter
Forget about that day, cover it with darkness and send thick, gloomy shadows to fill it with dread, Lord
Why didn't I die at birth?
I wish I had been born dead and then buried, never to see the light of the day
In the world of the dead, the wicked and the weary rest without worry
Why do You let me live when life is miserable and bitter?
Moaning and groaning are my food ad drink and my worst fears have all com true
I have no peace or rest- only the troubles and worries
Why is life so hard? Why do we suffer?
We are slaves in search of shade; we are laborers longing for our wages
I am sick of life!
I am sick at heart and pain has taken its toll
Suffering has scorched my skin, my stomach is tied in knots; my bones are burning; pain is my daily companion
And in myself I cry out, making a mournful sounds like jackals and owls
My life is speeding by without a hope of happiness
Each day passes swifter than sailing ship or a eagle swooping down
Sometimes I try to be cheerful and stop from complaining
but my sufferings frighten me
My life is drawing to an end, hope has disappeared
I cannot find God anywhere - in front or back of me, to my left or right
(God is always at work though I never see Him)
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