with the best of the ancient mountains and the harvest produced by the age-old hills;

“Were you the first man ever born? Were you brought forth before the hills?

The mountains skipped like rams, the hills like lambs.

Why do you skip like rams, O mountains, like lambs, O hills?

before the mountains were set in place – before the hills – I was born,

The pastures in the wilderness glisten with moisture, and the hills are clothed with joy.

you mountains and all you hills, you fruit trees and all you cedars,

Their children are always thinking about their altars and their sacred poles dedicated to the goddess Asherah, set up beside the green trees on the high hills

People of Jerusalem, I have seen your adulterous worship, your shameless prostitution to, and your lustful pursuit of, other gods. I have seen your disgusting acts of worship on the hills throughout the countryside. You are doomed to destruction! How long will you continue to be unclean?’”

He takes his battle position and shakes the earth; with a mere look he frightens the nations. The ancient mountains disintegrate; the primeval hills are flattened. He travels on the ancient roads.