As we continue through Chapter 9 of Kohelet, after learning about that small city besieged by a great king, and about that poor, wise man who rescued the city through his wisdom - yet no one remembered that poor man - Shlomo HaMelech draws a two-fold conclusion: on the one hand, the immense greatness of wisdom; and on the other hand, the distorted perspective of human beings, who evaluate words not by their intrinsic worth, but by who uttered them. From here, the chapter proceeds to praise gentle speech, which is the true power of the wise.
וְאָמַרְתִּי אָנִי טוֹבָה חָכְמָה מִגְּבוּרָה וְחָכְמַת הַמִּסְכֵּן בְּזוּיָה וּדְבָרָיו אֵינָם נִשְׁמָעִים׃ - And I said: Wisdom is better than might, yet the wisdom of the poor man is despised, and his words are not heeded.
Rashi explains: "And I said" - when I observed this, I said that wisdom is better than might. For behold, it was precisely the wisdom of this man, who was despised in everyone's eyes, that overcame physical might, rebuked that mighty king, and triumphed over him.
The Gemara raises an objection in the name of Rabbi Yochanan: Was the wisdom of Rabbi Akiva, who was a misken (poor), despised? "Misken" means poor, and "the wisdom of the poor man is despised" means that the wisdom of an impoverished person is held in contempt. Such is the way of the world: a rich man utters some trivial nonsense, and everyone laughs as though he said something brilliant; whereas if a poor man speaks profound wisdom, no one gives him credit, not even bothering to smile. Yet Rabbi Akiva was poor in his youth - was his wisdom despised?
Rather, the Gemara interprets the verse differently: this refers to an elder who sits and impoverishes his own words. For instance, an elder who expounds, "You shall not show partiality in judgment" - yet he shows partiality; "You shall not take a bribe" - yet he takes bribes; "You shall not lend with interest" - yet he lends with interest. Such a person teaches Torah, yet he is impoverished of the very things he teaches, devoid of them. At the very least, practice what you teach; when he fails to do so, everyone looks at him and says: Here is the one who told us not to do this, yet he does the exact opposite of his own words. His wisdom is despised.
The Malbim distinguishes between a misken and terms like dal (destitute), ani (poor), and the like. A misken is not necessarily destitute, but simply not wealthy. His explanation is fascinating: a misken is someone who lacks "arei miskenot" - storehouses or treasure-cities. This does not mean he is utterly impoverished, but that he possesses no great wealth or storehouses. That is precisely why Shlomo HaMelech contrasts the misken with a king: a great king arrives, and facing him stands a misken - not a pauper, but someone who lacks the wealth and treasures of a king. Similarly, the verse states, "A land where you will not eat bread in poverty (miskenut)" - meaning you will possess storehouses filled with grain, and you will not eat bread in a state lacking wealth. A misken is simply the opposite of a wealthy man.
Sforno explains: although wisdom is indeed better than might, nevertheless, if that wisdom resides in a misken, it is despised. After Shlomo demonstrated the tremendous power of wisdom - that one person saved an entire city through wisdom, proving it superior to physical might - he imparts a profound moral lesson: how prone people are to judge by appearances. A person may be wise, discerning, and knowledgeable, but if he is a misken, his words are not heeded.
In contrast, people declare: "Professor So-and-So said." But if you ask: What did he earn his professorship in? And it turns out to be in some narrow, specialized field - what qualifies him to voice opinions on matters of religion and state? Just because he is a professor, does he hold a monopoly on wisdom? He may truly be knowledgeable in the specific field he studied, but beyond that, nothing at all. On the contrary, another person who did not spend his life in microbiology might possess far broader knowledge in other areas. A taxi driver might well have greater native intelligence than he does. Yet for one, it is "the professor said," while the other is seen as a misken. The wisdom of the misken is despised: even if he utters the most profound truths, because he is perceived as having no standing, his wisdom is automatically held in contempt.
Incidentally, the Gemara has already offered advice on this matter: If a person shares a Torah thought or a novel insight (chiddush) and fears that people will not accept it from him - what should he do? Let him hang it on tall trees (יתלה באשלי רברבי); let him say it in the name of great scholars. In our circles, this is not usually practiced, because one does not wish to falsely attribute statements to great figures, lest people later ask: "Did that great sage really say such things?" Yet the Gemara teaches that in doing so, the words are received entirely differently.
What do people do instead? They say, "It is written in the books." Once, someone came to consult Rav Shalom Schwadron, wishing to share a wonderful chiddush but fearing people would belittle him. Rav Shalom told him: Write it down, and then say, "I found it written." A wonderful explanation on *Vayikkach Korach* - "I found it written." Where was it written? In my notebook; after I wrote it down, I found it written! And why? Because "the poor man's wisdom is despised."
Someone related that he studied at Ateret under Rav Baruch Mordechai Ezrachi. The Rosh Yeshivah raised a difficulty during the shiur, and a student stood up and suggested an approach. His rebbe dismissed it completely, telling him: "No, the peshat is this way." The student went and researched the matter, discovering that the Rashba says exactly what he had proposed. He returned and said: "Rebbe, look, the Rashba says what I said!" Rav Baruch Mordechai examined it and said: "True, but the Rashba has broad shoulders to make such a statement - from where did you draw the audacity to say such things?" That is "the poor man's wisdom is despised."
The holy Alshich explains that here, Shlomo speaks with Ruach HaKodesh. A person routinely follows the yetzer hara rather than the yetzer tov, even though the yetzer tov - the clever one in the narrative - speaks with wisdom, whereas the yetzer hara is an "old and foolish king" whose words are sheer foolishness. Who does not know that his counsel leads only to ruin? If so, why do people continue to listen to him? To this, Shlomo answers: "And I said" - I reflected on the matter and arrived at the conclusion - "that the wisdom of the poor man is despised."
And why is the yetzer tov perceived as a "poor man" (misken)? Because he demands things of wretchedness and humility from a person. He demands that one be despised and lowly in his own eyes, that he remember he comes from a putrid drop and is bound for a place of dust, worms, and maggots. He tells you: You need rectification for your sins; wear sackcloth and ashes, fast, weep day and night over the transgressions you have committed. An arrogant man will never welcome such wisdom, which is steeped in self-effacement. If you were humiliated or shouted at - stay silent, do not respond. In short, what does he ask for? Mortification. What does he demand? To deprive me of pleasures, to keep me from doing whatever strikes my fancy, from acting with unrestrained freedom.
By contrast, consider the yetzer hara - how sympathetic, how much he loves me: "Eat rich foods, drink sweet drinks, dress in scarlet and luxury, with pride and haughtiness of heart, for who is like you!" He makes you feel great. "Can I eat this?" - "Go ahead and eat, take another portion, enjoy!" "Are there kashrut issues here?" - "Let the humble eat and be satisfied, do not worry. Falafel - what problems could there possibly be? The salad is from Tnuva, it is presumably tithed. Hummus and insects? They ground it up, it is nullified (batel). Tehina? Who uses real tehina nowadays, it is just starch and water - don't you see the paste sticking to your fingers? Peppers? Those were ground up too, relax. And put on plenty of hot sauce." That is the yetzer hara: how nice he is, how much he loves us, how desperately he wants us to enjoy ourselves! But "the wisdom of the poor man is despised" - the yetzer tov is always seeking to restrict and humble us: this is forbidden, do not do that, here is a halachic concern, do not look there, and that is lashon hara. He only wants to bring us mortification. That is a person's instinctual feeling, and therefore his wisdom is despised, and people do not accept the counsel of the yetzer tov.
The Alshich explains a second reason for the words "and his words are not heard," an explanation very characteristic of the approach of Rav Shalom Schwadron. If the yetzer tov were to pursue a person and plead with him to heed its counsel, there is a chance the person would listen. But reality is the exact opposite: it is the yetzer hara that relentlessly pursues. When an opportunity to sin presents itself, it pounds, it pesters, it gives him no rest. Constantly, the person thinks about the sin; constantly, he craves it. He has a juicy piece of lashon hara on the tip of his tongue: "Should I say it? Shouldn't I say it? Wait, maybe it is constructive (l'toeled), perhaps it is permissible, I need to check..." The yetzer hara suddenly becomes a lamdan (a talmudic scholar). In short, it pounds and pesters without ceasing.
The yetzer tov, on the other hand, offers its good counsel - and falls silent. There is no scenario where the yetzer tov pesters you to perform a mitzvah, constantly knocking: "Go, do a mitzvah, do a mitzvah!" The yetzer tov is calm, serene, and gentle. The yetzer hara is aggressive - as we saw earlier: nets, snares, an arsenal, a siege. A person feels pressured, distressed, and the struggle is fierce. But the yetzer tov merely drops a subtle hint, offhandedly and in a gentle whisper - "and his words are not heard," because they are conveyed almost as a mere allusion. Meanwhile, the yetzer hara acts like the master of the house, dominating all the limbs - his fellow conspirators - practically shouting and barking commands at them. A truly magnificent explanation.
Rav Emil Lublin explains that misken (poor man) can be understood from the word sochen, and Chazal interpret this as referring to a pleasure-seeker, a person who pursues physical desires and luxuries. The wisdom of such a person is despised. That is to say, even if this person is knowledgeable in Torah, if people see that he indulges in the good life - traveling abroad every other week, constantly going on trips and pursuing pleasures - how will they look at him? Who will want to learn Torah from him? His wisdom is despised. In contrast, when people see a person who is the foremost ascetic of the generation, the entire generation becomes his disciples. Rav Shteinman - everyone felt a deep yearning to cling to him because they saw that he was the furthest removed from any physical indulgence. But the wisdom of the sochen, the pleasure-seeker, is despised, and people do not accept Torah from him.
He further explains that the yetzer hatov (the good inclination) is called a "poor and wise child" (Kohelet 4:13), and the wisdom of the poor man is despised because he feels lowly in his own eyes. As it were, the yetzer hatov feels shy to speak up, bashful to voice its counsel. And so it is with one who follows the wisdom of the misken, the advice of the yetzer hatov: he often lacks assertiveness and feels lowly in his own eyes. The wicked, on the other hand - "the way of the wicked prospers" (Yirmeyahu 12:1), because they are the brazen-faced of the generation.
It is well known that in the era preceding Mashiach, chutzpah yasgei ("insolence will increase"). The masters of Mussar note that yasgei means not only that chutzpah will grow, but also that it will succeed - whoever acts boldly will succeed. And they explain that this also has an application in holiness: just as one must wrest the spear from the hand of the Egyptian, one must sometimes act with boldness. Not, Heaven forbid, insolence in a negative sense of being disrespectful toward people, but azut dikdusha (holy boldness) - to disseminate Torah and bring people closer to Hashem. But if a person is constantly afraid of his own shadow, worried and anxious about "what will they say," "how will they refute my words," or "how will they oppose me" - his wisdom will be despised, and such a person will accomplish very little.
The holy Shelah explains the verse as referring to a litigant who presents his claims to the judge before his adversary arrives, after which "his fellow comes and examines him" (Mishlei 18:17). The one who arrives second - his wisdom is despised. Even if he possesses the most compelling arguments, his wisdom is despised because his opponent reached the judge first and voiced his side. For this reason, Chazal rule that a judge is forbidden to hear one litigant before both appear together, since the initial impression takes hold in a person's mind and is difficult to discard later. "Hear between your brethren" (Devarim 1:16) - he must hear both parties together, while both stand before him. When the second party arrives later, his wisdom becomes despised and his words fail to persuade, even if he presents the wisest arguments.
The Midrash HaGadol asks: Why should wisdom care whether it issues from the mouth of a rich man or a poor man? Wisdom is wisdom, so why should it be despised? Rather, the verse speaks of someone who is impoverished in words of Torah, and his words are therefore not accepted by the hearts of his listeners.
There is a profound lesson here. Often, someone wants to launch a Torah class. People ask him: "Who will teach?" He answers: "I will." They ask: "What are your credentials?" And he replies: "Thank God, I have been observant for six months already." Yet there were great figures who immersed themselves in study for ten full years before ever addressing the public! This does not mean that only someone who has mastered the entire Torah is permitted to speak - certainly not. But at the very least, he must possess solid knowledge, having acquired wisdom over years of study in a yeshiva or kollel; such a person may step forward. But one who has learned almost nothing and already wants to teach - about him it is said that the wisdom of the poor man is despised. To recharge others, one must arrive with fully charged batteries.
Back in the early days of "Arutz 2000," the pioneer among religious radio stations, people were needed to broadcast, but few volunteered because the police would show up, issuing fines and causing serious trouble. Consequently, individuals who were not qualified also took to the airwaves, and at times they did not even know how to read a verse correctly. Regarding the verse "Wisdom preserves the life of its possessor" (הַחָכְמָה תְּחַיֶּה בְעָלֶיהָ) - one broadcaster misread the unpointed text as "and wisdom will live in an ascent," even offering an interpretation: that a person must always live in a state of spiritual ascent in serving Hashem. Another broadcaster, wanting to announce a song, proclaimed: "And now we will hear the song Kumah Hashem" - reading the Hebrew letters as "Floor 5"! When a person is not qualified, what does he teach? Errors and misunderstandings. The wisdom of the poor man is despised, and his words do not reach the hearts of his listeners.
The Midrash concludes: Moshe and Aharon, however, because they were diligent in Torah and untainted by worldly pursuits, were worthy of rebuking Israel; thus, their words were beloved to the hearts of their listeners, who received them with love. There is an additional dimension here regarding rebuke: when someone rebukes others without being qualified or upright himself, people do not understand what he wants - how can you preach to others when you yourself act differently? But when those who rebuke are completely free of worldly corruption, like Moshe and Aharon, their words are cherished by the hearts of their listeners.
The Orchot Tzaddikim offers the very same advice we mentioned: therefore, one should place his words into the mouth of a wise and wealthy person, and let that person speak while he remains silent. You want to say something? Take a loudspeaker for yourself - that wealthy person or that wise person. And when people say, "So-and-so said this," the words already make the appropriate impression.
דִּבְרֵי חֲכָמִים בְּנַחַת נִשְׁמָעִים מִזַּעֲקַת מוֹשֵׁל בַּכְּסִילִים׃ - The words of the wise spoken gently are heard more than the shouting of a ruler over fools.
Rashi explains: "The words of the wise spoken gently are heard" - they are accepted by people, heard and received with calmness and love. "More than the shouting of a ruler over fools" - the kings of the idol-worshipping nations. The words of the wise are heard gently among Israel more than the nations listen to fools, to their kings who shout at them.
Before citing Rashi's wonderful example, let us precede it with a famous story about Reb Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev. On the eve of Pesach, after the deadline for the destruction of chametz, he went out for a walk. He passed through the local black market, approached someone, and asked: "Could you sell me a pack of cigarettes imported from abroad?" The man replied: "Certainly, which brand, what type, what quantity - we have everything." He turned to another and asked: "Do you have an imported rug from Kashmir?" He answered: "Yes, what dimensions, what size, what color?" Even though importing such goods was strictly forbidden, anything could still be obtained on the black market.
He then went to the Jewish neighborhood. He asked: "Reb Yid, do you happen to have a little chametz on you, perhaps a pita?" They answered him: "What is the Rav talking about? We burned everything!" He approached another: "Do you have a little pasta, ravioli, anything?" He replied: "Heaven forbid, it is Erev Pesach, we already destroyed everything!" No one understood what the Rav wanted from them. He then turned to the Master of the Universe and said: "Master of the Universe, where is there another nation like this? The Czar has soldiers, he has an army, and if he catches someone, there is imprisonment and severe penalties. Yet everywhere you turn, you can obtain any quantity of smuggled goods and contraband, and all his armies cannot help him enforce his decree! Whereas You wrote in the Torah through Moshe Rabbeinu three thousand years ago, 'No chametz shall be seen of yours,' and there is not a single Jew with whom you can find a crust of bread. Moshe Rabbeinu has no policemen, nor does the Holy One, blessed be He, dispatch angels against anyone who transgresses - yet the word of Hashem stands and endures forever."
And this is precisely Rashi's phrasing: "'More than the shouting of a ruler over fools' - the kings of the idol-worshipping nations; Moshe passed away so many years ago, yet his enactments are still observed by Israel, whereas the kings of the nations decree so many decrees upon Israel and their words do not endure." This does not necessarily refer only to Israel, but rather that the kings of the nations issue so many decrees and their words never come to fruition. Furthermore, one can examine the precise wording, "they decree decrees upon Israel and their words do not endure" - because the Holy One, blessed be He, delivers us from their hand. That king imagines he is truly sovereign, but the Holy One, blessed be He, saves us from the hand of those kings and from those decrees.
The holy Alshich explains that here lies the answer to the claim raised in the previous verse. There it was argued that "the wisdom of the poor man is despised" - the yetzer hatov is the poor man whose words are not accepted, and as it were, there is an imbalance between the yetzer hatov and the yetzer hara: the yetzer hara is powerful, demanding, shouting, and pushing, while the yetzer hatov merely offers gentle counsel. To this, Ruach HaKodesh replies: "The words of the wise spoken gently are heard." Do not say that the words of the yetzer hatov go unheard; rather, the words of the wise are heard - when? When one is at ease (benachat). If you were calm and settled, you would see that their words are heard very well.
Why do you not hear the words of the yetzer hatov? Because you are agitated, rushing headlong after desire and physical pleasures. But if a person were to tell himself, "I will rest, settle my mind, and determine whether I should act or refrain," he would then listen to the yetzer hatov and accept its counsel. This is what the masters of mussar say, that the yetzer hara is like a horse rushing headlong into battle. How does it get a person to do its bidding? By pushing and panicking him: "You must, immediately, right now! Run here, run there, do not stop, do not let up!" For it knows that the moment a person rests a bit, he will inevitably realize that it is all a lie and abandon it.
From here stems the advice we spoke about: the yetzer hara always says "now," "at once," "immediately." The way to counter it is "Go out and fight Amalek tomorrow." That is, do not say to it, "I will not do it," but rather, "I will do what you want - but tomorrow." It says to you: "Come, let us go now." Tell it: "Fine, I will finish learning, and afterward we will go." If you say, "We are not going," it will not leave you alone and will keep pushing relentlessly; but once you finish learning, you will see that the urge has already dissipated. And so it is with every single matter.
And from where do we learn this strategy of warfare? From the yetzer hara itself - "and he plucked the spear out of the Egyptian's hand." For this is precisely its tactic against the yetzer hatov: when the yetzer hatov wants you to do something right now, the yetzer hara says, "Fine, no problem, but tomorrow. With the next tractate, starting next month - go ahead and do it, but not right now; what's the rush?" We must fight against it using that very same method. "Go out and fight with Amalek tomorrow" - what is Amalek's way? Tomorrow. Amalek is accustomed to being struck down on the morrow, for that is its essence: always postponing what is good. Therefore, when it comes to entice you to commit a sin, do not tell it "no" - tell it "tomorrow," and then you will see how the drive fades away on its own.
And the conclusion of the verse: "more than the shout of a ruler among fools." The complaint was that the yetzer hara pushes, shouts, and demands, while the yetzer hatov is quiet and too gentle. The verse tells you: if you were calm, you would see that the words of wisdom of the yetzer hatov are heard more than the shouting of the yetzer hara among the fools - in the limbs of a person, which are the fools that obey it. You would hear the words of the yetzer hatov and fulfill its will. But because you lack calm, you hear the shouting of the ruler among fools more than the words of the wise spoken gently.
The Midrash expounds: "'The words of the wise heard in quietness' - this refers to Amram and his Beit Din, who said, 'What benefit do we have in bringing forth children only to cast them into the Nile?' And they took counsel and resolved behind the gate and behind the fence that up to this point the world exists. 'More than the shout of a ruler among fools' - this refers to Pharaoh, who decreed, 'Every son that is born you shall cast into the Nile,' yet they paid no heed to his decree."
In other words, Amram and his Beit Din initially said, "What benefit do we have in bringing forth children only to cast them into the Nile?" Ultimately, following the counsel of Miriam - "Your decree is harsher than Pharaoh's, for you decree against the females as well" - they conferred and resolved behind the gate and behind the fence, in the privacy of inner chambers, that the world must continue to exist. For otherwise, the world would cease to be, since children would not be born at all. And this quiet resolve achieved more than the shout of the ruler among fools, the clamor of Pharaoh, and ultimately their words endured while his did not.
The Imrei Shefer explains: The words of the wise, even though spoken gently and without raising their voices, are heard and accepted by people - far more than the shout of a ruler among fools, for even though he is a ruler, all his shouting carries less weight.
And there is a profound message here. When a person speaks calmly, his words permeate. But when he speaks with shouts and outcry, it may seem for a brief moment to make an impression and produce some movement, yet this is only a momentary, meaningless impression that quickly fades. The reason is simple: a person is not naturally inclined to do things when shouted at, because shouting humiliates him and reduces him to someone merely taking orders. Naturally, this arouses resistance: "Who are you to tell me what to do?" He may comply in front of you, but behind your back, he will not. Look at what happens in schools and all kinds of settings where some think they can lead through force, clamor, shouting, and threats: in your presence he will do what you want, but that is not education; it is mere animal training. A student must be genuinely educated, and being educated means how he behaves when the educator is not beside him, when he is not under threat. That is where true education is revealed.
To be sure, in the immediate moment it is very tempting to shout and threaten, because it yields immediate results: whatever was commanded is done on the spot. But how long does that last? It is like ice - very solid, but only for a few minutes. Education is a long-distance race, and that is a reality many fail to consider. In a marathon, no one checks who was ahead in the first two meters; one looks at the finish line to see who actually crossed it. In fact, often quite the opposite occurs: one who starts with a frantic sprint runs out of breath and never reaches the finish line. And who does arrive? "The words of the wise are heard in quietness" - those whose education was conducted with calm and patience. The educator does not demand, "Do this immediately because I said so, and woe to you if you don't!" Rather, he repeats the message again and again, allowing it to penetrate gently. It may be that at this very moment, the one taught with patience has not yet learned, while the one who was coerced did comply - but over time, the words of the wise heard in quietness will prevail. We already know what became of all those subjected to the approach of "force him and make him sit," and where they have ended up today.
An army commander organizes his soldiers, speaks with them, gives motivational talks, and guides them - and then comes the reality within battle. In the heat of battle, matters are no longer calm; there, the sounds are the shouts of war. Concerning this, the verse comes and says: know that the words of the wise are heard in quietness. A military commander who organizes matters calmly before going out to war, whose training is conducted with patience and composure - he is the one who will succeed in battle.
But regarding "the shout of a ruler among fools": when the commander shouts at his men in the midst of battle itself - "You are not fighting properly! You are not conducting yourselves right! You are doing it all wrong!" - it is already too late. In the heat of battle, shouting accomplishes nothing. What is needed are words of wisdom spoken at a time of calm, prior to the battle, for then they are heard and absorbed. And this is the meaning of the well-known adage: hard in training, easy in battle.
Rabbi Akiva displayed just such composure in his final moments, as his flesh was being raked with iron combs while he recited the Shema. His students said to him, "Our master, even to this point?" He replied to them, "All my days I was troubled by this verse: when will it come to my hand that I may fulfill it?" What did he wish to tell them? "Do you think I acquired this composure just now? No - I have been training for this moment for years."
So it is with anyone who reaches such a moment: he does not lose his wits, but stands with composure. When does a person learn emunah and bitachon? When everything is fine and flowing smoothly. Then, when a time of testing arrives - he stands tall. But one who never learned, feeling he had no need for it since everything was working out, suddenly shatters and crumbles to pieces when crisis strikes. What happened? When the time was right - you did not train; you did not train in bitachon, in emunah in Hashem, in avodat Hashem, and in cleaving to Him.
Therefore, one needs an army commander to organize matters before marching out to war: prepare for the yetzer hara before the conflict, and do not wait for the moment of battle, for "at the time of the evil inclination, no one remembers the good inclination" - in the heat of the yetzer hara, no one even recalls that such a thing as a yetzer hatov exists. Not only does one fail to grapple with it, but one does not even remember its presence. Therefore, the words must be spoken while there is still calm, and then they will be heard.
Rabbi Amram d'Abergel, cited in the Me'am Lo'ez, expounds the verse in an illuminating way. In their day, when Jewish authority was strong, the dayanim had no need to speak with threats or intimidation, because "Judges and officers you shall appoint for yourself in all your gates" - alongside the judge stood an officer who would discipline, strike, and punish with a strap, ensuring that precisely what the judge commanded was carried out. Consequently, litigants accepted the ruling and everything proceeded in orderly fashion.
This is the meaning of: the words of the wise - that is, the judges - are heard in gentleness. And why are they heard? "Over the cry of a ruler among fools" - because there was a ruler and an officer who shouted at the fools and compelled them to carry out the judge's word. But when there is no officer to shout at the fools and no ruler over them, the words of the wise spoken gently are no longer heard, for people say to themselves: "Why do I have to listen to him? Can he force me? Does he have a bailiff?" Consequently, they treat their words with contempt. But when there is the cry of a ruler among fools - the words of the wise, even though spoken gently, are heard.
There are two sides to the coin in these verses. On the one hand, "wisdom is better than strength," and yet "the poor man's wisdom is despised": people evaluate things based on who said them rather than their intrinsic worth - whether the misken is impoverished in wealth, whether he is one who "endangers his words" by failing to practice what he preaches, whether he is a "sochen" driven by self-interest, or whether he is impoverished in words of Torah. Deep down, as the Alshich explains, the yetzer hatov is the misken: its wisdom is perceived as contemptible, and it only hints without being overbearing, while the yetzer hara shouts and dominates. On the other hand, the verse teaches us the secret power of gentleness: "The words of the wise are heard in gentleness" - the decrees of Moshe have endured for thousands of years while the decrees of the kings of the nations have vanished; Amram and his beit din prevailed over Pharaoh's decree; and in education and avodat Hashem - whoever prepares himself with calm before the battle is the one who withstands it. And if you only allow yourself to be at peace and settle your mind, you will discover that the words of the yetzer hatov are heard clearly, far more than any cry of a ruler among fools.