For she sits at the door of her house, On a seat by the highest places of the city,
She has sent out her maidens, She cries out from the highest places of the city,
Remove your way far from her, And do not go near the door of her house,
She takes her stand on the top of the high hill, Beside the way, where the paths meet.
To call to those who pass by, Who go straight on their way:
You built your high places at the head of every road, and made your beauty to be abhorred. You offered yourself to everyone who passed by, and multiplied your acts of harlotry.