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.

Вино ын ажутор, Доамне, кэч се дук оамений евлавиошь, пер крединчоший динтре фиий оаменилор!

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

Оамений ышь спун минчунь уний алтора, пе бузе ау лукрурь лингушитоаре, ворбеск ку инимэ префэкутэ.

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

Нимичяскэ Домнул тоате бузеле лингушитоаре, лимба каре ворбеште ку труфие,

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

пе чей че зик: „Сунтем тарь ку лимба ноастрэ, кэч бузеле ноастре сунт ку ной. Чине ар путя сэ фие стэпын песте ной?”

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.”

„Пентру кэ чей ненорочиць сунт асуприць ши пентру кэ сэрачий ӂем, акум”, зиче Домнул, „Мэ скол ши адук мынтуире челор обиждуиць.”

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

Кувинтеле Домнулуй сунт кувинте курате, ун арӂинт лэмурит ын куптор де пэмынт ши курэцит де шапте орь.

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

Ту, Доамне, ый вей пэзи ши-й вей апэра де нямул ачеста пе вечие.

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

Претутиндень мишунэ чей рэй, кынд домнеште тикэлошия принтре фиий оаменилор.