Salme 12

1 (Til sangmesteren. Efter den ottende. En salme af David.) HERRE, hjælp, thi de fromme er borte, svundet er Troskab blandt Menneskens Børn;

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 de taler Løgn, den ene til den anden, med svigefulde Læber og tvedelt Hjerte.

Everyone lies to their neighbors. They flatter with nice talk, but they don't mean what they say.

3 Hver svigefuld Læbe udrydde HERREN, den Tunge, der taler store Ord,

Stop their flattery, Lord, and silence their boasts—

4 dem, som siger: "Vor Tunge gør os stærke, vore Læber er med os, hvo er vor Herre?"

these people who say, “We will succeed through what we say; our mouths belong to us. We don't take orders from anyone!”

5 "For armes Nød og fattiges Suk vil jeg nu stå op", siger HERREN, "jeg frelser den, som man blæser ad."

“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 HERRENs Ord er rene Ord, det pure, syvfold lutrede Sølv.

What the Lord says is trustworthy, as pure as silver refined seven times in a furnace.

7 HERRE, du vogter os, værner os evigt mod denne Slægt.

You, Lord will keep the oppressed safe; you will protect us from these kinds of people forever;

8 De gudløse færdes frit overalt, når Skarn ophøjes blandt Menneskens Børn.

even though the wicked are all around us, and evil is being promoted everywhere.