Salme 12

1 Til Sangmesteren; til Skeminith; en Psalme af David.

“To the chief musician upon Sheminith, a psalm of David.” Help, O Lord; for the pious have ceased to be; for the truthful have failed from among the children of men.

2 Frels, Herre! thi de fromme ere borte; thi de trofaste ere blevne faa iblandt Menneskens Børn.

Deceptively do they speak every one with his neighbor, with flattering lips, with a double heart do they speak.

3 De tale Løgn, hver med sin Næste; med smigrende Læber, snart af et, snart af et andet Hjerte tale de.

May the Lord cut off all flattering lips, the tongue that speaketh boastful things:

4 Herren udrydde alle smigrende Læber, den Tunge, som taler store Ord,

Who have said, With our tongue will we be mighty; our lips are with us; who is Lord over us!

5 dem, som sige: Ved vor Tunge skulle vi faa Overhaand, vore Læber ere med os; hvo er vor Herre?

Because of the oppression of the poor, because of the sighing of the needy, now will I arise, saith the Lord: I will grant safety to him for whom the other layeth a snare.

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.

The words of the Lord are pure words, as silver refined in the crucible of earth, purified seven times.

7 Herrens Ord ere rene Ord, ligesom Sølv, der er smeltet i en Ovn af Jord, lutret syv Gange.

Thou, O Lord, wilt preserve them; thou wilt guard them from this generation for ever.

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.

On every side do the wicked walk about, when the vile are exalted over the sons of man.