Every son of earth hath become too brutish to discern, Every goldsmith, hath been put to shame by a graven image, - For a falsehood, is his molten image, Seeing there is no breath in them.

Every son of earth had become too brutish to know, - Every goldsmith, hath been put to shame, by a graven image, - For a falsehood, is his molten image Seeing there is no breath in them:

And will cast you out from before me, - Just as I have cast out All your brethren, All the seed of Ephraim.

Cut thou off thy crown of hair O Jerusalem , and cast it away, And lift thou up on the bare heights, a dirge, - For Yahweh hath rejected and cast out the generation with which he was wroth.