Leeser(i)
1 Woe is me! for I am as in the gathering of the summer-fruits, as in the grape-gleanings of the vintage: there is no cluster to eat, no first-ripe fruit for which my soul longeth.
2 The pious hath disappeared out of the land; and the upright among men there is none; all of them lie in wait for blood; they hunt every man his brother with a net.
3 For the evil of your hands you expect good? while the prince demandeth bribes, and the judge acteth for pay; and the great man is only speaking the wilful pleasure of his soul: and so do they make a network of wrong.
4 The best of them is like a brier; the most upright is sharper than a thorn-hedge: the day of thy watchmen, thy punishment, is come; now shall be perplexity among them.
5 Trust ye not in a friend, put ye not confidence in a confidant: from her that lieth in thy bosom guard the doors of thy mouth.