The righteous man perishes, and no one lays it to heart; devout men are taken away, while no one understands. For the righteous man is taken away from calamity,
he enters into peace; they rest in their beds who walk in their uprightness.
But you, draw near hither, sons of the sorceress, offspring of the adulterer and the harlot.
Of whom are you making sport? Against whom do you open your mouth wide and put out your tongue? Are you not children of transgression, the offspring of deceit,
you who burn with lust among the oaks, under every green tree; who slay your children in the valleys, under the clefts of the rocks?
Among the smooth stones of the valley is your portion; they, they, are your lot; to them you have poured out a drink offering, you have brought a cereal offering. Shall I be appeased for these things?