Psalms 12

1 Unto the end; for the octave, a psalm for David. Save me, O Lord, for there is now no saint: truths are decayed from among the children of men.

Dura buʼaa Faarfattootaatiif. Faarfannaa Daawit kan akka sirna Shamiiniitiitti faarfatamu. Yaa Waaqayyo, namni Waaqa sodaatu hin jiruutii ati na gargaar; ilmaan namaa keessaas namni amanamu dhabameeraatii.

2 They have spoken vain things every one to his neighbour: with deceitful lips, and with a double heart have they spoken.

Namni hundinuu ollaa isaatti soba dubbata; isaan nama saadanii garaa lamaan dubbatu.

3 May the Lord destroy all deceitful lips, and the tongue that speaketh proud things.

Waaqayyo afaan nama saadu hunda, arraba of tuulu hundas haa kukkutu;

4 Who have said: We will magnify our tongue; our lips are our own; who is Lord over us?

isaanis, “Nu arraba keenyaan ni moona; hidhiin keenyas keenyuma; eenyutu nurratti gooftummaa qaba?” jedhu.

5 By reason of the misery of the needy, and the groans of the poor, now will I arise, saith the Lord. I win set him in safety; I will deal confidently in his regard.

Waaqayyo, “Ani sababii hacuucamuu hiyyeeyyiitiif, sababii aaduu rakkattootaatiifis amma nan kaʼa. Nagaa isaan hawwan keessas isaan nan jiraachisa” jedha.

6 The words of the Lord are pure words: as silver tried by the fire, purged from the earth refined seven times.

Dubbiin Waaqayyoo hirʼina hin qabu; innis akka meetii boolla ibiddaa keessatti baqfamee yeroo torba qulqulleeffamee ti.

7 Thou, O Lord, wilt preserve us: and keep us from this generation for ever.

Yaa Waaqayyo ati nu eegda; dhaloota akkanaa irraas bara baraan nu oolchita.

8 The wicked walk round about: according to thy highness, thou best multiplied the children of men.

Yeroo wanni faayidaa hin qabne ilmaan namaa gidduutti kabajamutti hamoonni of dhiibuudhaan kallattii hundaan asii fi achi naannaʼu.