1 My son, listen to wisdom,
bend your ear to understanding;
2 so that discretion may watch over you,
and that knowledge may preserve you.
3 For the lips of the harlot drop honey,
her mouth is smoother than oil;
4 but at last she is bitter as wormwood,
and sharp as a two-edged sword.
5 Her feet go down to Death;
her steps lead straight into Sheol.
6 No smooth way of life does she walk;
her paths wander — she doesn't know where.
7 And now, my son, listen to me;
Do not turn from the words that I speak.
8 Move far away from her.
Do not go near the door of her house;
9 or you might give your wealth to others,
your years to the implacable,
10 and so strangers enjoy your substance,
and a family of foreigners your toil;
11 and thus at the last you groan,
when body and flesh are consumed:
12 “Why did I hate instruction,
and spurn reproof in my heart?
13 Why did I not listen to my teachers,
nor bent to instructors mine ear?
14 All but utterly was I undone
in the congregation assembled.”
15 Drink water from your own cistern,
running water from your own well.
16 Do not let your springs be scattered abroad,
on the streets your streams of water.
17 Let them be for yourself alone,
and not for strangers beside you.
18 Let your fountain be your own,
take joy from the wife of your youth —
19 lovely hind and graceful doe —
let her breasts make you happy at all times.
be ravished with her love forever.
20 For why be ravished by a stranger,
and a foreigners's bosom embrace?
21 For the ways of a man are before the Lord's eyes,
and all his paths he weighs.
22 His iniquities will snare him,
enmeshed in the toils of his sin.
23 He will die for lack of instruction
and perish for his vast folly.