1
My son, if you become surety for your friend, If you have shaken hands in pledge for a stranger,
2
You are snared by the words of your mouth; You are taken by the words of your mouth.
3
So do this, my son, and deliver yourself; For you have come into the hand of your friend: Go and humble yourself; Plead with your friend.
4
Give no sleep to your eyes, Nor slumber to your eyelids.
5
Deliver yourself like a gazelle from the hand of the hunter, And like a bird from the hand of the fowler.
6
Go to the ant, you sluggard! Consider her ways and be wise,
7
Which, having no captain, Overseer or ruler,
8
Provides her supplies in the summer, And gathers her food in the harvest.
9
How long will you slumber, O sluggard? When will you rise from your sleep?
10
A little sleep, a little slumber, A little folding of the hands to sleep--
11
So shall your poverty come on you like a prowler, And your need like an armed man.
12
A worthless person, a wicked man, Walks with a perverse mouth;
13
He winks with his eyes, He shuffles his feet, He points with his fingers;
14
Perversity is in his heart, He devises evil continually, He sows discord.