Wisdom shouts in the street; in the public square she raises her voice.
Above the noisy crowd, she calls out. At the entrances of the city gates, she has her say:
"How long will you clueless people love your naïveté, mockers hold their mocking dear, and fools hate knowledge?
You should respond when I correct you. Look, I'll pour out my spirit on you. I'll reveal my words to you.
I invited you, but you rejected me; I stretched out my hand to you, but you paid no attention.
You ignored all my advice, and you didn't want me to correct you.
So I'll laugh at your disaster; I'll make fun of you when dread comes over you,
when terror hits you like a hurricane, and your disaster comes in like a tornado, when distress and oppression overcome you.
Then they will call me, but I won't answer; they will seek me, but won't find me
because they hated knowledge and didn't choose the fear of the LORD.
They didn't want my advice; they rejected all my corrections.
They will eat from the fruit of their way, and they'll be full of their own schemes.
The immature will die because they turn away; smugness will destroy fools.
Those who obey me will dwell securely, untroubled by the dread of harm."