My son, keep my sayings,
And treasure up my commandments.
Keep my commandments and live
Guard my instruction like the pupil of your eye.
Tie them around your fingers;
Write them on the tablet of your heart.
Say to wisdom, "You are my sister,"
And call understanding "my relative,"
To guard you against the wayward woman,
Against the immoral woman and her smooth words.
From the window of my house,
Through my lattice, I looked down,
And as I observed the naive ones,
I discerned among the youths,
A young man lacking good sense.
He passed along the street near her corner,
And he marched in the direction of her house
In the twilight, in the evening,
At the approach of night and darkness.
Then I saw a woman meet him,
Dressed like a prostitute, with a cunning heart.
She is loud and defiant.
She never stays at home.
One moment she is outside, next she is in the public squares,
She lurks near every corner.
She grabs hold of him and gives him a kiss;
With a bold face, she says to him:
"I had to offer communion sacrifices.
Today I paid my vows.
That is why I came out to meet you,
To look for you, and I found you!
I have spread fine covers upon my bed,
Colorful linen from Egypt.
I have sprinkled my bed with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon.
Come, let us drink our fill of love until the morning;
Let us enjoy passionate love together,
For my husband is not at home;
He has gone on a distant journey.
He took a bag of money with him,
And he will not return until the day of the full moon."
She misleads him with great persuasiveness.
She seduces him with smooth speech.
Suddenly he goes after her, like a bull to the slaughter,
Like a fool to be punished in the stocks,
Until an arrow pierces his liver;
Like a bird rushing into a trap,
He does not know that it will cost him his life.
And now, my sons, listen to me;
Pay attention to the words I speak.
Do not let your heart turn aside to her ways.
Do not stray onto her paths,
For she has caused many to fall down slain,
And those she has killed are numerous.
Her house leads to the Grave;
It goes down to the inner chambers of death
-7:38pm beware
YOU ARE READING
untitled
Poesía"i have nothing to write i am not even free not until i find the sugar for my coffee"
