²¹ I hate, I despise, your feasts!^(A)
I can’t stand the stench
of your solemn assemblies.^(B)

¹⁰ I will turn your feasts into mourning^(A)
and all your songs into lamentation;^(B)
I will cause everyone^[a] to wear sackcloth^(C)
and every head to be shaved.^(D)
I will make that grief
like mourning for an only son^(E)
and its outcome like a bitter day.