Though a harlot thou art, O Israel, Let not Judah become guilty, And come not ye in to Gilgal, nor go up to Beth-Aven, Nor swear ye, Jehovah liveth.

Blow ye a cornet in Gibeah, a trumpet in Ramah, Shout, O Beth-Aven, after thee, O Benjamin.

For the calves of Beth-Aven fear do inhabitants of Samaria, Surely mourned on account of it hath its people, And its priests on account of it leap about, Because of its honour, for it hath removed from it,

And destroyed have been high places of Aven, the sin of Israel. Thorn and bramble go up on their altars, And they have said to hills, Cover us, And to heights, Fall upon us.