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Mich 7,1 wird geladen ... Woe is me! for I am as when they have gathered the summer fruits, as the grape gleanings of the vintage: there is no cluster to eat; {Or, not first-ripe fig which my soul desired}my soul desireth the first-ripe fig.

Mich 7,2 wird geladen ... The godly man is perished out of the earth, and there is none upright among men: they all lie in wait for blood; they hunt every man his brother with a net.