My spirit is broken, my days have faded out, the grave awaits me.

And when he is carried to the tombs, and watch is kept over the funeral mound,

who rejoice even to jubilation, and are exultant when they find the grave?

You will come to your grave in a full age, As stacks of grain are harvested in their season.

I should have been as though I had never existed; I should have been carried right from the womb to the grave!