1 Woe to me! For I am as gatherings of summer fruit, as gleanings of the grape harvest. There is no cluster to eat. My being has desired the first-ripe fruit.
2 The kind one has perished from the earth, and there is no one straight among men. All of them lie in wait for blood, everyone hunts his brother with a net.
3 Both hands are on the evil, to do it well. The prince asks for gifts, the judge seeks a bribe, and the great man speaks the desire of his being. And they weave it together.
4 The best of them is like a prickly plant, the most straight is sharper than a thorn hedge. The day of your watchman and your punishment has come, now is their confusion.