For their rock is not as our Rock, even our enemies themselves concede.
For their vine is of the vine of Sodom, of the fields of Gomorrah.
Their grapes are poison grapes.
Their clusters are bitter.
Their wine is the poison of serpents, the cruel venom of asps.
“Isn’t this laid up in store with me, sealed up among my treasures?
Vengeance is mine, and recompense, at the time when their foot slides, for the day of their calamity is at hand.
Their doom rushes at them.”