These are blots on your love feasts, while they feast with you without fear, feeding themselves. They are waterless clouds carried along by the winds; autumn trees without fruit, twice dead, uprooted;
When its boughs are dry, they are broken; women come and make a fire of them. For this is a people without understanding; therefore he who made them will not have compassion on them; he who formed them will show them no favor.
He cried aloud and said: ‘Cut down the tree and chop off its branches; strip off its foliage and scatter its fruit. Let the animals flee from beneath it and the birds from its branches.