1. Woe to me! For I am as gatherings of summer fruit, as gleanings of the grape harvest. There is no cluster to eat. My being has desired the first-ripe fruit.
2. The kind one has perished from the earth, and there is no one straight among men. All of them lie in wait for blood, everyone hunts his brother with a net.
3. Both hands are on the evil, to do it well. The prince asks for gifts, the judge seeks a bribe, and the great man speaks the desire of his being. And they weave it together.