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.

¡Salva, oh Yavé, porque se acaban los piadosos! Porque desaparecen los fieles entre los hijos de [los] hombres.

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

Hablan vanidades, cada uno a su prójimo. Hablan con labios lisonjeros y doblez de corazón.

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

¡Corte Yavé todos los labios lisonjeros, La boca que habla altanerías!

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

Los que dicen: Prevaleceremos con nuestra lengua. Nuestros labios son nuestros. ¿Quién es ʼAdón sobre nosotros?

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.”

Por la opresión a los pobres, Por el gemido del menesteroso, Ahora me levantaré, dice Yavé. Pondré en seguridad al que por ella suspira.

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

Las Palabras de Yavé son Palabras puras, Como plata refinada en un crisol en la tierra Purificada siete veces.

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

Tú los guardarás, oh Yavé, Los guardarás de esta generación para siempre.

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

Por todos lados los impíos deambulan Cuando la vileza es exaltada entre los hijos de [los] hombres.