You have lost your reason and taken the wrong path. You have taken lies for truth, and hideousness for beauty. You would marvel if, owing to strange events of some sorts, frogs and lizards suddenly grew on apple and orange trees instead of fruit, or if roses began to smell like a sweating horse; so I marvel at you who exchange heaven for earth. I don't want to understand you.

The speaker delivers a moral indictment of someone who has, in their view, inverted basic values—treating falsehood as truth and ugliness as beauty. The grotesque natural images (reptiles growing on fruit trees; roses smelling like a sweaty horse) dramatize how shocking such a reversal feels: it is as if the laws of nature had been violated. The line “I marvel at you who exchange heaven for earth” frames the conflict as spiritual or ethical, not merely aesthetic. The closing refusal—“I don't want to understand you”—signals a hard boundary: the speaker rejects rationalization and insists that some choices are not to be explained away but condemned.