And none doth turn `it' back unto his heart, Nor hath knowledge nor understanding to say, `Half of it I have burned in the fire, Yea, also, I have baked bread over its coals, I roast flesh and I eat, And its remnant for an abomination I make, To the stock of a tree I fall down.'
Saying to wood, `My father `art' thou!' And to a stone, `Thou hast brought me forth,' For they turned unto me the back and not the face, And in the time of their vexation, They say, `Arise Thou, and save us.'
For my people `are' foolish, me they have not known, Foolish sons `are' they, yea, they `are' not intelligent, Wise `are' they to do evil, And to do good they have not known.
What profit hath a graven image given That its former hath graven it? A molten image and teacher of falsehood, That trusted hath the former on his own formation -- to make dumb idols?
Because the teraphim did speak iniquity, And the diviners have seen a falsehood, And dreams of the vanity they speak, `With' vanity they give comfort, Therefore they have journeyed as a flock, They are afflicted, for there is no shepherd.