Turn aside from Me the noise of thy songs, Yea, the praise of thy psaltery I hear not.
For though ye cause burnt-offerings and your presents to ascend to Me, I am not pleased, And the peace-offering of your fatlings I behold not.
And roll on as waters doth judgment, And righteousness as a perennial stream.
Who are taking part according to the psaltery, Like David they invented for themselves instruments of music;
And have turned your festivals to mourning, And all your songs to lamentation, And caused sackcloth to come up on all loins, And on every head -- baldness, And made it as a mourning `of' an only one, And its latter end as a day of bitterness.
And howled have songstresses of a palace in that day, An affirmation of the Lord Jehovah, Many `are' the carcases, into any place throw -- hush!