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.

Načelniku godbe po osmini, psalm Davidov. Daj rešenje, Gospod, ker minil je dobrodelnik; ker izginili so resnični izmed sinov človeških.

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

Prazno govoré drug z drugim, s priliznenimi ustnami, z vojnim srcem govoré.

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

Pokončal bode Gospod vse priliznene ustne, jezik visokobesedni;

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

Njih, ki govoré: Našega jezika pravica bode obveljala, ustne naše so v naši oblasti, kdo bi bil nam gospod?

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.

Od zatiranja siromakov ubozih, od vpitja revežev vstanem skoraj, govori Gospod; pomagal bodem njemu, v katerega bode pihal žarjavico krivični.

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

Besede Gospodove so čiste besede, srebro očiščeno v izbrani prsteni posodi, osnaženo sedemkrat.

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

Ti, Gospod, ohrani jih; vsakega izmed njih brani tega rodu na veke.

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

Krivični hodijo okrog povsodi, ko se povzdiguje malopridna reč med človeškimi sinovi.