Yet surely, our sicknesses, he, carried, And, as for our pains, he bare the burden of them,—But, we, accounted him stricken. Smitten of God and humbled,
Of what use to me, is your multitude of sacrifices: Saith Yahweh: I am sated with ascending-offerings of rams and the fat of fed beasts,—In the blood of bulls and young rams and he-goats, have I no pleasure.