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.

Msaada, Yahweh, kwa kuwa wacha Mungu wametoweka; nao waaminifu wametokomea.

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

Kila mmoja anasema kwa jirani yake maneno matupu; kila mmoja anaongea kwa midomo yenye sifa za uongo na maneno ya udanganyifu.

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

Yahweh, katilia mbali midomo yenye sifa za uongo, kila ulimi unanena kwa nguvu mambo makubwa.

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

Hawa ni wale ambao wamesema, “Kwa ndimi zetu tutashinda. Wakati midomo yetu itakapo ongea, ni nani atakaye kuwa mtawala juu yetu?”

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.

“Kwa sababu ya vurugu zilizopo kinyume na maskini, na kwa sababu ya kuugua kwao wahitaji, Nitainuka,” asema Yahwe. “Nitawaletea usalama wanao hitaji.”

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

Maneno ya Yahwe ni masafi, kama fedha iliyo safishwa katika tanuru duniani, iliyo ng'arishwa mara saba zaidi.

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

Wewe ni Yahwe! Unaye watunza. Una wahifadhi wacha Mungu kutoka katika hiki kizazi cha waovu na hata milele.

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

Waovu hutembea kila pande pale uovu unapoinuliwa kati ya wanadamu.