3 Do this now, my son, and be delivered, For thou hast come into the hand of thy friend. Go, trample on thyself, and strengthen thy friend,
4 Give not sleep to thine eyes, And slumber to thine eyelids,
5 Be delivered as a roe from the hand, And as a bird from the hand of a fowler.
6 Go unto the ant, O slothful one, See her ways and be wise;
7 Which hath not captain, overseer, and ruler,
8 She doth prepare in summer her bread, She hath gathered in harvest her food.
9 Till when, O slothful one, dost thou lie? When dost thou arise from thy sleep?