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II Chronicles 6-10
Thursday, August 29, 2019
The Books of Poetry
As snow in summer, and as rain in harvest, So honour [is] not comely for a fool.
As a bird by wandering, as a swallow by flying, So reviling without cause doth not come.
A whip is for a horse, a bridle for an ass, And a rod for the back of fools.
Answer not a fool according to his folly, Lest thou be like to him -- even thou.
Answer a fool according to his folly, Lest he be wise in his own eyes.
He is cutting off feet, he is drinking injury, Who is sending things by the hand of a fool.
Weak have been the two legs of the lame, And a parable in the mouth of fools.
As one who is binding a stone in a sling, So [is] he who is giving honour to a fool.
A thorn hath gone up into the hand of a drunkard, And a parable in the mouth of fools.
Great [is] the Former of all, And He is rewarding a fool, And is rewarding transgressors.
As a dog hath returned to its vomit, A fool is repeating his folly.
Thou hast seen a man wise in his own eyes, More hope of a fool than of him!
The slothful hath said, `A lion [is] in the way, A lion [is] in the broad places.'
The door turneth round on its hinge, And the slothful on his bed.
The slothful hath hid his hand in a dish, He is weary of bringing it back to his mouth.
Wiser [is] the slothful in his own eyes, Than seven [men] returning a reason.
Laying hold on the ears of a dog, [Is] a passer-by making himself wrath for strife not his own.
As [one] pretending to be feeble, Who is casting sparks, arrows, and death,
So hath a man deceived his neighbour, And hath said, `Am not I playing?'
Without wood is fire going out, And without a tale-bearer, contention ceaseth,
Coal to burning coals, and wood to fire, And a man of contentions to kindle strife.
The words of a tale-bearer [are] as self-inflicted wounds, And they have gone down [to] the inner parts of the heart.
Silver of dross spread over potsherd, [Are] burning lips and an evil heart.
By his lips doth a hater dissemble, And in his heart he placeth deceit,
When his voice is gracious trust not in him, For seven abominations [are] in his heart.
Hatred is covered by deceit, Revealed is its wickedness in an assembly.
Whoso is digging a pit falleth into it, And the roller of a stone, to him it turneth.
A lying tongue hateth its bruised ones, And a flattering mouth worketh an overthrow!
Boast not thyself of to-morrow, For thou knowest not what a day bringeth forth.
Let another praise thee, and not thine own mouth, A stranger, and not thine own lips.
A stone [is] heavy, and the sand [is] heavy, And the anger of a fool Is heavier than they both.
Fury [is] fierce, and anger [is] overflowing, And who standeth before jealousy?
Better [is] open reproof than hidden love.
Faithful are the wounds of a lover, And abundant the kisses of an enemy.
A satiated soul treadeth down a honeycomb, And [to] a hungry soul every bitter thing [is] sweet.
As a bird wandering from her nest, So [is] a man wandering from his place.
Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart, And the sweetness of one's friend -- from counsel of the soul.
Thine own friend, and the friend of thy father, forsake not, And the house of thy brother enter not In a day of thy calamity, Better [is] a near neighbour than a brother afar off.
Be wise, my son, and rejoice my heart. And I return my reproacher a word.
The prudent hath seen the evil, he is hidden, The simple have passed on, they are punished.
Take his garment, when a stranger hath been surety, And for a strange woman pledge it.
Whoso is saluting his friend with a loud voice, In the morning rising early, A light thing it is reckoned to him.
A continual dropping in a day of rain, And a woman of contentions are alike,
Whoso is hiding her hath hidden the wind, And the ointment of his right hand calleth out.
Iron by iron is sharpened, And a man sharpens the face of his friend.
The keeper of a fig-tree eateth its fruit, And the preserver of his master is honoured.
As [in] water the face [is] to face, So the heart of man to man.
Sheol and destruction are not satisfied, And the eyes of man are not satisfied.
A refining pot [is] for silver, and a furnace for gold, And a man according to his praise.
If thou dost beat the foolish in a mortar, Among washed things -- with a pestle, His folly turneth not aside from off him.
Know well the face of thy flock, Set thy heart to the droves,
For riches [are] not to the age, Nor a crown to generation and generation.
Revealed was the hay, and seen the tender grass, And gathered the herbs of mountains.
Lambs [are] for thy clothing, And the price of the field [are] he-goats,
And a sufficiency of goats' milk [is] for thy bread, For bread to thy house, and life to thy damsels!
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