^{1 Ref} Misery is mine! Indeed, I am like one who gathers the summer fruits, as gleanings of the vinyard: There is no cluster of grapes to eat. My soul desires to eat the early fig.

^{2 Ref} The godly man has perished out of the earth, And there is no one upright among men. They all lie in wait for blood; Every man hunts his brother with a net.