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הַשָּׁקֵד֙when the almond treehaš·šā·qêḏ
וְיָנֵ֤אץ blossoms ,wə·yā·nêṣ
הֶֽחָגָ֔בthe grasshopperhe·ḥā·ḡāḇ
וְיִסְתַּבֵּ֣ל loses its spring ,wə·yis·tab·bêl
הָֽאֲבִיּוֹנָ֑הand the caper berryhā·’ă·ḇî·yō·w·nāh
וְתָפֵ֖רshrivels —wə·ṯā·p̄êr
כִּֽי־for thenkî-
הָאָדָם֙manhā·’ā·ḏām
הֹלֵ֤ךְgoeshō·lêḵ
אֶל־to’el-
עוֹלָמ֔וֹhis eternal‘ō·w·lā·mōw
בֵּ֣יתhomebêṯ
הַסֹּפְדִֽים׃and mournershas·sō·p̄ə·ḏîm
וְסָבְב֥וּwalkwə·sā·ḇə·ḇū
בָשּׁ֖וּקthe streets .ḇå̄š·šūq
Ecclesiastes 12:6עַ֣ד[Remember Him] before‘aḏ
אֲשֶׁ֤ר’ă·šer
לֹֽא־lō-
הַכֶּ֔סֶףthe silverhak·ke·sep̄
חֶ֣בֶלcordḥe·ḇel
יִרְחַקis snappedyir·ḥaq
הַזָּהָ֑בand the goldenhaz·zā·hāḇ
גֻּלַּ֣תbowlgul·laṯ
וְתָרֻ֖ץ is crushed ,wə·ṯā·ruṣ
כַּד֙[before] the pitcherkaḏ
וְתִשָּׁ֤בֶרis shatteredwə·ṯiš·šā·ḇer
עַל־at‘al-
הַמַּבּ֔וּעַthe springham·mab·bū·a‘
הַגַּלְגַּ֖לand the wheelhag·gal·gal
וְנָרֹ֥ץis brokenwə·nā·rōṣ
אֶל־at’el-
הַבּֽוֹר׃ the well ,hab·bō·wr
Ecclesiastes 12:7הֶעָפָ֛ר[before] the dusthe·‘ā·p̄ār
וְיָשֹׁ֧בreturnswə·yā·šōḇ
עַל־to‘al-
הָאָ֖רֶץthe groundhā·’ā·reṣ
כְּשֶׁהָיָ֑הfrom which it camekə·še·hā·yāh
וְהָר֣וּחַand the spiritwə·hā·rū·aḥ
תָּשׁ֔וּבreturnstā·šūḇ
אֶל־to’el-
הָאֱלֹהִ֖יםGodhā·’ĕ·lō·hîm
אֲשֶׁ֥רwho’ă·šer
נְתָנָֽהּ׃gave it .nə·ṯā·nāh
Ecclesiastes 12:8הֲבֵ֧ל“ Futilityhă·ḇêl
הֲבָלִ֛ים of futilities , ”hă·ḇā·lîm
אָמַ֥רsays’ā·mar
הַקּוֹהֶ֖לֶתthe Teacher .haq·qō·w·he·leṯ
הַכֹּ֥ל“ Everythinghak·kōl
הָֽבֶל׃is futile ! ”hā·ḇel
Ecclesiastes 12:9וְיֹתֵ֕רNot onlywə·yō·ṯêr
שֶׁהָיָ֥הwasše·hā·yāh
קֹהֶ֖לֶתthe Teacherqō·he·leṯ
חָכָ֑ם wise ,ḥā·ḵām
ע֗וֹדbut he also‘ō·wḏ
לִמַּד־taughtlim·maḏ-
הָעָ֔םthe peoplehā·‘ām
דַּ֙עַת֙knowledge ;da·‘aṯ
אֶת־’eṯ-
וְאִזֵּ֣ן he pondered ,wə·’iz·zên
וְחִקֵּ֔ר searched out ,wə·ḥiq·qêr
תִּקֵּ֖ןand arrangedtiq·qên
הַרְבֵּֽה׃manyhar·bêh
מְשָׁלִ֥יםproverbs .mə·šā·lîm
Ecclesiastes 12:10קֹהֶ֔לֶתThe Teacherqō·he·leṯ
בִּקֵּ֣שׁsearchedbiq·qêš
לִמְצֹ֖אto findlim·ṣō
חֵ֑פֶץdelightfulḥê·p̄eṣ
דִּבְרֵי־sayingsdiḇ·rê-
וְכָת֥וּבand to recordwə·ḵā·ṯūḇ
יֹ֖שֶׁרaccurateyō·šer
דִּבְרֵ֥יwordsdiḇ·rê
אֱמֶֽת׃of truth .’ĕ·meṯ
Ecclesiastes 12:11דִּבְרֵ֤יThe wordsdiḇ·rê
חֲכָמִים֙of the wiseḥă·ḵā·mîm
כַּדָּ֣רְבֹנ֔וֹת are like goads ,kad·dā·rə·ḇō·nō·wṯ
אֲסֻפּ֑וֹתand the anthologies’ă·sup·pō·wṯ
בַּעֲלֵ֣יof the mastersba·‘ă·lê
נְטוּעִ֖יםare like firmly embeddednə·ṭū·‘îm
וּֽכְמַשְׂמְר֥וֹתnailsū·ḵə·maś·mə·rō·wṯ
נִתְּנ֖וּdrivennit·tə·nū
אֶחָֽד׃by a single’e·ḥāḏ
מֵרֹעֶ֥הShepherd .mê·rō·‘eh

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