Certainly you made my mind and heart; you wove me together in my mother’s womb.

The righteous has enough food to satisfy his appetite, but the belly of the wicked lacks food.

The words of a gossip are like choice morsels; they go down into the person’s innermost being.

From the fruit of a person’s mouth his stomach is satisfied, with the product of his lips is he satisfied.

The human spirit is like the lamp of the Lord, searching all his innermost parts.

Beatings and wounds cleanse away evil, and floggings cleanse the innermost being.

The words of a gossip are like delicious morsels; they go down into a person’s innermost being.

O my son, O son of my womb, O son of my vows,

Ephraim will be like a bird; what they value will fly away. They will not bear children – they will not enjoy pregnancy – they will not even conceive!

Your children will be blessed, as well as the produce of your soil, the offspring of your livestock, the calves of your herds, and the lambs of your flocks.

Your children will be cursed, as well as the produce of your soil, the calves of your herds, and the lambs of your flocks.

“While he is filling his belly, God sends his burning anger against him, and rains down his blows upon him.

Yes, you are the one who brought me out from the womb and made me feel secure on my mother’s breasts.

Have mercy on me, for I am in distress! My eyes grow dim from suffering. I have lost my strength.

I have leaned on you since birth; you pulled me from my mother’s womb. I praise you continually.

The Lord made a reliable promise to David; he will not go back on his word. He said, “I will place one of your descendants on your throne.

For it is pleasing if you keep these sayings within you, and they are ready on your lips.

Your navel is a round mixing bowl – may it never lack mixed wine! Your belly is a mound of wheat, encircled by lilies.

Their arrows will cut young men to ribbons; they have no compassion on a person’s offspring, they will not look with pity on children.

Can a woman forget her baby who nurses at her breast? Can she withhold compassion from the child she has borne? Even if mothers were to forget, I could never forget you!