Long ago you broke your yoke, you tore off your bonds. You said, “I will not serve.” On every high hill, under every green tree, you sprawled and served as a prostitute.
Raise your eyes to the heights, and look, where have men not lain with you? Along the roadways you waited for them like an Arabian in the wilderness. You defiled the land by your wicked prostitution.
No light from a lamp will ever be seen in you again. No voices of bride and groom will ever be heard in you again. Because your merchants were the great ones of the world, all nations were led astray by your magic potion.
For all the nations have drunk the wine of her licentious passion. The kings of the earth had intercourse with her, and the merchants of the earth grew rich from her drive for luxury.”