| 1. | Boast not thyself of to-morrow, For thou knowest not what a day bringeth forth. |
| 2. | Let another praise thee, and not thine own mouth, A stranger, and not thine own lips. |
| 3. | A stone `is' heavy, and the sand `is' heavy, And the anger of a fool Is heavier than they both. |
| 4. | Fury `is' fierce, and anger `is' overflowing, And who standeth before jealousy? |
| 5. | Better `is' open reproof than hidden love. |
| 6. | Faithful are the wounds of a lover, And abundant the kisses of an enemy. |
| 7. | A satiated soul treadeth down a honeycomb, And `to' a hungry soul every bitter thing `is' sweet. |
| 8. | As a bird wandering from her nest, So `is' a man wandering from his place. |
| 9. | Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart, And the sweetness of one's friend -- from counsel of the soul. |
| 10. | 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. |
| 11. | Be wise, my son, and rejoice my heart. And I return my reproacher a word. |
| 12. | The prudent hath seen the evil, he is hidden, The simple have passed on, they are punished. |
| 13. | Take his garment, when a stranger hath been surety, And for a strange woman pledge it. |
| 14. | Whoso is saluting his friend with a loud voice, In the morning rising early, A light thing it is reckoned to him. |
| 15. | A continual dropping in a day of rain, And a woman of contentions are alike, |
| 16. | Whoso is hiding her hath hidden the wind, And the ointment of his right hand calleth out. |
| 17. | Iron by iron is sharpened, And a man sharpens the face of his friend. |
| 18. | The keeper of a fig-tree eateth its fruit, And the preserver of his master is honoured. |
| 19. | As `in' water the face `is' to face, So the heart of man to man. |
| 20. | Sheol and destruction are not satisfied, And the eyes of man are not satisfied. |
| 21. | A refining pot `is' for silver, and a furnace for gold, And a man according to his praise. |
| 22. | If thou dost beat the foolish in a mortar, Among washed things -- with a pestle, His folly turneth not aside from off him. |
| 23. | Know well the face of thy flock, Set thy heart to the droves, |
| 24. | For riches `are' not to the age, Nor a crown to generation and generation. |
| 25. | Revealed was the hay, and seen the tender grass, And gathered the herbs of mountains. |
| 26. | Lambs `are' for thy clothing, And the price of the field `are' he-goats, |
| 27. | And a sufficiency of goats' milk `is' for thy bread, For bread to thy house, and life to thy damsels! |