12 Why did my mother hold me on her knees? Why did her breasts feed me?
13 If I had died when I was born, I would be at peace now. I wish I were asleep and at rest
14 with the kings and their advisors who built palaces that are now in ruins.
15 I wish I were buried with rulers who filled their graves with gold and silver.
16 Why wasn’t I a child who died at birth and was put in the ground? I wish I had been buried like a baby who never saw the light of day.
17 There the wicked stop causing trouble, and the weary find rest.
18 Even prisoners find relief there; they no longer hear their guards shouting at them.