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Look up at the hilltops. Is there any place where you have not acted like a prostitute? You waited for lovers along the roadside, as an Arab waits for victims in the desert. You have defiled the land with your prostitution. That is why the rains were held back, and the spring showers did not come. You even look like a prostitute; you have no shame.

“And now you say to me, ‘You are my father, and you have loved me ever since I was a child.

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