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2 Perished hath the kind out of the land, And upright among men -- there are none, All of them for blood lie in wait, Each his brother they hunt with a net. 3 On the evil are both hands to do it well, The prince is asking -- also the judge -- for recompence, And the great -- he is speaking the mischief of his soul, And they wrap it up. 4 Their best one is as a brier, The upright one -- than a thorn-hedge, The day of thy watchmen -- Thy visitation -- hath come. Now is their perplexity. 5 Believe not in a friend, trust not in a leader, From her who is lying in thy bosom keep the openings of thy mouth. Micah 7:2-5, Young's Literal Translation. Public domain.
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