12 hii sunt in epulis suis maculae convivantes sine timore semet ipsos pascentes nubes sine aqua quae a ventis circumferuntur arbores autumnales infructuosae bis mortuae eradicatae
12
These people are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm—shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted—twice dead.