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The fear of a king [is] a growl as of a young lion, He who is causing him to be wroth is wronging his soul.

An honour to a man is cessation from strife, And every fool intermeddleth.

Because of winter the slothful plougheth not, He asketh in harvest, and there is nothing.

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A king’s wrath strikes terror like the roar of a lion;(A)
    those who anger him forfeit their lives.(B)

It is to one’s honor to avoid strife,
    but every fool(C) is quick to quarrel.(D)

Sluggards(E) do not plow in season;
    so at harvest time they look but find nothing.(F)

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