¹²     And yet my friends say, this loss of hope is for good,
        turning my dark night into what appears to them as day.
    In the pitch darkness, these broken plans and secret wishes speak to me.
        They say, “There is light nearby.”
¹³     If I hope only to live in the land of the dead,
        if I prepare for myself a bed in the darkness,
¹⁴     If I speak to my burial pit, calling it “Father,”
        and to the worms in the earth, calling them “Mother” and “Sister,”