3 With their wickedness they make glad a king, And with their lies -- princes.
4 All of them 'are' adulterers, Like a burning oven of a baker, He ceaseth from stirring up after kneading the dough, till its leavening.
5 A day of our king! Princes have polluted themselves 'with' the poison of wine, He hath drawn out his hand with scorners.
6 For they have drawn near, As an oven 'is' their heart, In their lying in wait all the night sleep doth their baker, Morning! he is burning as a flaming fire.
7 All of them are warm as an oven, And they have devoured their judges, All their kings have fallen, There is none calling unto Me among them.
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