1 My son, listen to my wisdom; Incline your ear to my understanding,
2 So as to watch over discretion, And your lips guard knowledge.
3 For the lips of a strange woman drip honey, And her mouth is smoother than oil;
4 But in the end she is bitter as wormwood, Sharp as a two-edged sword.
5 Her feet go down to death, Her steps lay hold of the grave.
6 She does not consider the path of life; Her ways are unstable – you do not know it.