For they run toward evil; these enticers shed blood without hesitation.

Wisdom cries out in the street; she raises her voice in the public squares.

She calls out at the busiest part of the noisy streets, and at the entrance to the gates of the city she utters her words:

She is more precious than rubies, and nothing you desire compares with her.

She is a tree of life for those who embrace her, and whoever clutches her tightly will be joyful.

Do not abandon her, and she will protect you. Love her, and she will watch over you.

Prize her and she will exalt you. Indeed, if you embrace her, she will honor you.

She will place on your head a graceful garland; she will present to you a crown of beauty."

Hold on to instruction, do not let it go! Guard wisdom, because she is your life!

But in the end she is as bitter as wormwood, and as sharp as a double-edged sword.

During your travels wisdom will lead you; she will watch over you while you rest; and when you are startled from your sleep, she will commune with you.

She is brazen and defiant her feet don't remain at home.

Now she is in the street, now in the plazas, she lurks near every corner.

So she grabs hold of him and kisses him, with a brazen face she speaks to him,

She leads him astray with great persuasion; with flattering lips she seduces him.

For many are the victims whom she has conquered, and many are her slain.

On top of the highest places along the road she stands where the roads meet.

Beside the gates, at the city entrance at the entrance to the portals she cries aloud:

Wisdom has built her house; she has hewn out her seven pillars.

She has prepared her food, she has spiced her wine, and she also has set her dining table.

She has sent out her young women, while calling out from the heights of the city,

"Let whoever is naive, turn in here." To anyone lacking sense, she says,

She sits at the entrance of her house, on a seat high above the city.

She calls out to those passing by on the road, who are minding their own business,

"Whoever is naive, turn in here!" And to anyone lacking sense, she says,

Surely she lies in wait like a bandit, increasing those who are faithless among mankind.

This is what an immoral woman is like: she eats, wipes her mouth, then says "I've done nothing wrong."

an unloved woman when she finds a husband, and a servant girl who inherits from her mistress.

She will bring good to him never evil every day of her life.

She seeks out wool and flax, working with eager hands.

She is like a seagoing ship that brings her food from far away.

She rises while it is still night, preparing meals for her family and providing for her women servants.

She evaluates a field and purchases it; from the proceeds she plants a vineyard.

She clothes herself with fortitude, and fortifies her arms with strength.

She is confident that her profits are sufficient. Her lamp does not go out at night.

She works with her own hands on her clothes her hands work the sewing spindle.

She reaches out to the poor, opening her hands to those in need.

She is unafraid of winter's effect on her household, because all of them are warmly clothed.

She creates her own bedding, using fine linen and violet cloth.

She designs and sells linen garments, supplying accessories to clothiers.

Strength and dignity are her garments; she smiles about the future.

She speaks wisely, teaching with gracious love.

She looks discretely to the affairs of her household, and she is never lazy.