1 Woe is me! for I am as when they have gathered the summer fruits, as the grape gleanings of the vintage: there is no cluster to eat: my soul desired the first ripe fruit.
2 The godly man has perished out of the earth: and there is none upright among men: they all lie in wait for blood; they hunt every man his brother with a net.
3 That they may do evil with both hands earnestly, the prince asks, and the judge asks for a bribe; and the great man, he utters his evil desire: so they weave it together.
4 The best of them is like a brier: the most upright is sharper than a thorn hedge: the day of your watchmen and your punishment comes; now shall be their perplexity.
5 Trust not in a friend, put not confidence in a companion: keep the doors of your mouth from her that lies in your bosom.