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.

Fún adarí orin. Gẹ́gẹ́ bí ti ṣeminiti. Saamu ti Dafidi. Ràn wá lọ́wọ́, Olúwa, nítorí ẹni ìwà-bí-Ọlọ́run kò sí mọ́; olóòtítọ́ tí pòórá kúrò láàrín àwọn ènìyàn.

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

Olúkúlùkù ń parọ́ fún aládùúgbò rẹ̀; ètè èké wọn ń sọ ẹ̀tàn.

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

Kí Olúwa kí ó gé ètè èké wọn àti gbogbo ahọ́n ìfọ́nnu

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

tí ó wí pé, “Àwa ó borí pẹ̀lú ahọ́n wa; àwa ní ètè wa, ta ni ọ̀gá wa?”

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.

“Nítorí ìnilára àwọn aláìlágbára àti ìkérora àwọn aláìní, Èmi yóò dìde nísinsin yìí,” ni Olúwa wí. “Èmi yóò dáàbò bò wọ́n lọ́wọ́ àwọn tí ń ṣe àrankàn wọn.”

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

Ọ̀rọ̀ Olúwa sì jẹ aláìlábùkù, gẹ́gẹ́ bí fàdákà tí a yọ́ nínú ìléru amọ̀, tí a sọ di mímọ́ nígbà méje.

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

Olúwa, ìwọ yóò pa wá mọ́ kí o sì gbà wá lọ́wọ́ àwọn ènìyàn wọ̀nyí títí láé.

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

Àwọn ènìyàn búburú ń rin ìrìn fáàrí kiri nígbà tí wọn ń bọ̀wọ̀ fún òsì láàrín àwọn ènìyàn.