New American Bible (Revised Edition)
1 Woe is me! I am like the one who gathers summer fruit,
when the vines have been gleaned;
There is no cluster to eat,
no early fig that I crave.
2 The faithful have vanished from the earth,
no mortal is just!
They all lie in wait to shed blood,
each one ensnares the other.(A)
3 Their hands succeed at evil;
the prince makes demands,
The judge is bought for a price,
the powerful speak as they please.(B)