I don't find fault with your acts of worship, the frequent burnt sacrifices you offer.
But why should I want your blue-ribbon bull, or more and more goats from your herds?
Every creature in the forest is mine, the wild animals on all the mountains.
I know every mountain bird by name; the scampering field mice are my friends.
If I get hungry, do you think I'd tell you? All creation and its bounty are mine.
Do you think I feast on venison? or drink draughts of goats' blood?
Spread for me a banquet of praise, serve High God a feast of kept promises,