3 I have seen the foolish taking root, But suddenly I cursed his habitation.
4 His children are far from safety, They are crushed in the gate. Neither is there any to deliver them,
5 Whose harvest the hungry eats up, And take it even out of the thorns; The snare gapes for their substance.
6 For affliction doesn't come forth from the dust, Neither does trouble spring out of the ground;
7 But man is born to trouble, As the sparks fly upward.
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