Psalms 12

1 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.

Rombaho, ry Iehovà, fa tsy eo ondaty matarikeo; mimosaoñe amo ana’ ondatio o migahiñeo.

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

Hene mifandañitse aman-drañetse ondatio, reke-tsoñy mitsiriry naho troke-miroe-rehake.

3 Stop their flattery, Lord, and silence their boasts—

Haitoa’ Iehovà ze hene fivimby mandomboke, naho ty fameleke mitrè fibohabohàñe,

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

ami’ty hoe: O lela’aio ro handreketa’ay; anay o soñi’aio; ia ty mpifehe anay?

5 “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.”

Ty fampisoañañe o rarakeo, naho ty fitoreova’ o mpisotrio, ty iongahako henaneo, hoe t’Iehovà, Fa hampipalireko amy isehasehà’ey.

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

Fetse ki’e o fepè’ Iehovào, volafoty nitsoheñe an-toñan-tsini-hara; nitranaheñe im-pito.

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

Arovo irezay ry Iehovà, ambeno ami’ty tariratse toy nainai’e donia,

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

Mitsapiotsapioke mbeo’ mbeo o tsivokatseo, naho onjoneñe amo ana’ ondatio ty haloloañe.