These are hidden reefs at your love feasts, as they feast with you without fear, shepherds feeding themselves; waterless clouds, swept along by winds; fruitless trees in late autumn, twice dead, uprooted; wild waves of the sea, casting up the foam of their own shame; wandering stars, for whom the gloom of utter darkness has been reserved forever.
What a description!
They are hidden reefs (blemishes). They have come to blend right in during the fellowship times. They go unnoticed, therefore they are without fear. They are selfish, like a shepherd who feeds himself.
They are like clouds with no rain.
They are like dead fruit trees.
They are like a wave casting up foam.
They are like a wandering star.
There is a place reserved for them.