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None Upright Among Mankind

Woe is me! For I am like gatherings of produce in summer,
like gleanings of a vineyard.
There is no cluster to eat,
    no first-ripe fig that I crave.
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.

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