A continual dropping in a day of rain, And a woman of contentions are alike,
Stones have waters worn away, Their outpourings wash away the dust of earth, And the hope of man Thou hast destroyed.
A calamity to his father `is' a foolish son, And the contentions of a wife `are' a continual dropping.
Better to dwell in a wilderness land, Than `with' a woman of contentions and anger.
Better to sit on a corner of the roof, Than `with' a woman of contentions and a house of company.
Better to sit on a corner of a roof, Than `with' a woman of contentions, and a house of company.
Whoso is hiding her hath hidden the wind, And the ointment of his right hand calleth out.