< Salme 12 >
1 Til Sangmesteren; til Skeminith; en Psalme af David.
For the music director. To the Sheminith. A psalm of David. Help, Lord, for all the good people have gone! Those who trust in you have disappeared from among the people on earth.
2 Frels, Herre! thi de fromme ere borte; thi de trofaste ere blevne faa iblandt Menneskens Børn.
Everyone lies to their neighbors. They flatter with nice talk, but they don't mean what they say.
3 De tale Løgn, hver med sin Næste; med smigrende Læber, snart af et, snart af et andet Hjerte tale de.
Stop their flattery, Lord, and silence their boasts—
4 Herren udrydde alle smigrende Læber, den Tunge, som taler store Ord,
these people who say, “We will succeed through what we say; our mouths belong to us. We don't take orders from anyone!”
5 dem, som sige: Ved vor Tunge skulle vi faa Overhaand, vore Læber ere med os; hvo er vor Herre?
“Because of the violence the helpless have suffered, and because of the groans of the poor, I will rise up to defend them,” says the Lord. “I will give them the protection they have been longing for.”
6 For de elendiges Ødelæggelses Skyld, for de fattiges Jamren vil jeg nu staa op, siger Herren; jeg vil sætte en Frelse for den, som han fnyser ad.
What the Lord says is trustworthy, as pure as silver refined seven times in a furnace.
7 Herrens Ord ere rene Ord, ligesom Sølv, der er smeltet i en Ovn af Jord, lutret syv Gange.
You, Lord will keep the oppressed safe; you will protect us from these kinds of people forever;
8 Du, Herre! du vil bevare dem; du vil vogte os imod denne Slægt evindelig. De ugudelige færdes trindt omkring, naar Skarn ophøjes iblandt Menneskens Børn.
even though the wicked are all around us, and evil is being promoted everywhere.