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The prophet laments

I’m doomed!
    I’ve become like one who,
        even after the summer fruit has been gathered,
        after the ripened fruits have been collected,
            has no cluster of grapes to eat,
            no ripe fig that I might desire.
Faithful ones have perished from the land;
        there is no righteous one among humanity.
    All of them lie in wait for bloodshed;
        they hunt each other with nets.

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