More bitter than death I find the woman who is a hunter’s trap, whose heart is a snare, whose hands are prison bonds. The one who pleases God will be delivered from her, but the one who displeases will be entrapped by her.
Your own wickedness chastises you, your own infidelities punish you. Know then, and see, how evil and bitter is your forsaking the Lord, your God, And your showing no fear of me, oracle of the Lord, the God of hosts.
The yoke of my rebellions is bound together, fastened by his hand. His yoke is upon my neck; he has made my strength fail. The Lord has delivered me into the grip of those I cannot resist.