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.

Wɔde ma dwonkyerɛfo se wɔnto no wɔ “Seminit” sanku nne so. Dawid dwom. Boa yɛn, Awurade, na nyamesurofo asa; nokwafo ayera wɔ nnipa mu.

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

Obiara di atoro kyerɛ ne yɔnko; wɔn ano a ɛdɛfɛdɛfɛ no ka nnaadaasɛm.

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

Ma Awurade ntwa nnaadaa ano ne tɛkrɛma biara a ɛhoahoa ne ho nkyene;

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

nea ɛka se, “Yɛde yɛn tɛkrɛma bedi nkonim; yɛn ano bedi ama yɛn, na hena na odi yɛn so tumi?”

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.”

“Esiane ɔhyɛ a wɔde hyɛ mmɔborɔni ne ohiani apinisi no nti, mɛsɔre afei,” Awurade na ose. “Mɛbɔ wɔn ho ban afi wɔn a wɔhaw wɔn no ho.”

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

Awurade asɛm yɛ nokware te sɛ dwetɛ a wɔasɔn so wɔ fononoo mu, na wɔahoa ho mpɛn ason.

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

Awurade, wobɛkora mmɔborɔni na woabɔ yɛn ho ban afi saa nnipa yi ho afebɔɔ.

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

Amumɔyɛfo nenam sɛnea wɔpɛ, bere a adesamma de nidi ma afide.