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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.
Their hands are skilled at doing evil.
    Official and judge alike ask for a bribe;
        the powerful speak however they like;
            this is how they conspire.

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Woe is me! for I am as when they have gathered the summer fruits, as the grapegleanings of the vintage: there is no cluster to eat: my soul desired the firstripe fruit.

The good man is perished out of the earth: and there is none upright among men: they all lie in wait for blood; they hunt every man his brother with a net.

That they may do evil with both hands earnestly, the prince asketh, and the judge asketh for a reward; and the great man, he uttereth his mischievous desire: so they wrap it up.

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