She cries at the gates, at the entry of the city, at the entrance at the doors.

Blessed is the man that hears me, watching daily at my gates, waiting at the posts of my doors.

At the top of the highways, at the meeting of the roads, she takes her place;

Do not be glad at the fall of your hater, and let not your heart have joy at his downfall:

Whoso is mocking at the poor Hath reproached his Maker, Whoso is rejoicing at calamity is not acquitted.

Fret not thyself at evil doers, Be not envious at the wicked,

at twilight, at [the] day's evening, in [the] midst of night and the darkness.

She sits at the door of her house, upon a throne [at the] high places of town,

She calls at the head of noisy places. At the entrance of the city gates, she utters her words:

An inheritance acquired [hastily] {at the beginning} will not be blessed at its end.

at one time outside, at another in the wide plazas, and by every corner she lies in wait.)