"But you—come here, you sons of a sorceress, you offspring of adulterers and prostitutes!
Whom are you mocking? At whom do you sneer and stick out your tongue? Are you not a brood of rebels, the offspring of liars? You burn with lust among the oaks and under every spreading tree; you sacrifice your children in the ravines and under the overhanging crags.
The idols among the smooth stones of the ravines are your portion; they, they are your lot.
Yes, to them you have poured out drink offerings and offered grain offerings. In the light of these things, should I relent?
You have made your bed on a high and lofty hill; there you went up to offer your sacrifices.
Behind your doors and your doorposts you have put your pagan symbols. Forsaking me, you uncovered your bed, you climbed into it and opened it wide; you made a pact with those whose beds you love, and you looked on their nakedness.
You went to Molech with olive oil and increased your perfumes. You sent your ambassadors far away; you descended to the grave itself!