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Lo, for strife and debate ye fast, And to smite with the fist of wickedness, Ye fast not as [to]-day, To sound in the high place your voice.

Like this is the fast that I choose? The day of a man's afflicting his soul? To bow as a reed his head, And sackcloth and ashes spread out? This dost thou call a fast, And a desirable day -- to Jehovah?

Is not this the fast that I chose -- To loose the bands of wickedness, To shake off the burdens of the yoke, And to send out the oppressed free, And every yoke ye draw off?

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