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The pious have perished from the land,
there is none upright among mankind.
All of them lie in wait for blood.
A man hunts his brother with a net.
Both hands are diligent at doing evil.
The official and the judge ask for a bribe.
The distinguished man utters a desire of his soul.
Thus they weave it together.
The best of them is like a prickly bush,
the most upright like a thorn hedge.
The day of your watchmen—of your visitation—is coming.
Then their confusion will occur.

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