CHAPTER 5
1My son, to my wisdom hearken,
to my discernment bend your ear,
2to guard cunning
so that your lips may keep knowledge.
3For the stranger-woman’s lips drip honey,
smoother than oil her open mouth.
4But in the end she’s as bitter as wormwood,
sharp as a double-edged sword.
5Her feet go down to Death,
in Sheol her steps take hold.
6No path of life she traces,
her pathways wander, and she does not know.
7And now, sons, hear me,
and do not swerve from my mouth’s sayings.
8Keep your way far from her
and do not go near the entrance of her house,
9lest you give to others your glory
and your years to a ruthless man,
10lest strangers sate themselves with your vigor,
and your toil—in an alien’s house,
11and in the end you roar
when your body and flesh waste away.
12And you will say, “How I hated reproof,
and my heart despised rebuke.
13And I did not heed my teachers’ voice,
to my instructors I did not bend my ear.
14Soon I fell into every harm
in the midst of the assembled crowd.”
15Drink water from your own well,
fresh water from your cistern.
16Your springs will spread to the street,
in the squares, streams of water.
17Let them be yours alone
and not for strangers alongside you.
18Let your fountain be blessed,
and rejoice in the wife of your youth.
19Love’s doe, a graceful gazelle,
her breasts ever slake your thirst,
you will always dote in her love.
20And why dote, my son, on a stranger-woman,
21For before the LORD’s eyes are the ways of a man,
He traces all his pathways.
22The crimes of the wicked ensnare him,
in the ropes of his offense he is held.
23He will die for want of reproof,