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Woe is me, for I am become as one that gleaneth in autumn the grapes of the vintage: there is no cluster to eat, my soul desired the firstripe figs.

The holy man is perished out of the earth, and there is none upright among men: they all lie in wait for blood, every one hunteth his brother to death.

The evil of their hands they call good: the prince requireth, and the judge is for giving: and the great man hath uttered the desire of his soul, and they have troubled it.

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Israel’s Misery

What misery is mine!
I am like one who gathers summer fruit
    at the gleaning of the vineyard;
there is no cluster of grapes to eat,
    none of the early figs(A) that I crave.
The faithful have been swept from the land;(B)
    not one(C) upright person remains.
Everyone lies in wait(D) to shed blood;(E)
    they hunt each other(F) with nets.(G)
Both hands are skilled in doing evil;(H)
    the ruler demands gifts,
the judge accepts bribes,(I)
    the powerful dictate what they desire—
    they all conspire together.

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