9 And now, appease, I pray thee, the face of God, And He doth favour us; From your own hand hath this been, Doth He accept of you appearances? Said Jehovah of Hosts.
10 Who 'is' even among you, And he shutteth the two-leaved doors? Yea, ye do not kindle Mine altar for nought, I have no pleasure in you, said Jehovah of Hosts, And a present I do not accept of your hand.
11 For, from the rising of the sun to its going in, Great 'is' My name among nations, And in every place perfume is brought nigh to My name, and a pure present, For great 'is' My name among nations, Said Jehovah of Hosts.
12 And ye are polluting it in your saying, 'The table of Jehovah -- it is polluted, As to its fruit -- despicable is its food.'
13 And ye have said, 'Lo, what a weariness,' And ye have puffed at it, said Jehovah of Hosts, And ye have brought in plunder, And the lame and the sick, And ye have brought in the present! Do I accept it from your hand? said Jehovah.
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