Psalms 11

1 In the LORD put I my trust: how say you to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?

For the chief musician. A psalm of David. I take refuge in Yahweh; how will you say to me, “Flee like a bird to the mountain”?

2 For, see, the wicked bend their bow, they make ready their arrow on the string, that they may privately shoot at the upright in heart.

For see! The wicked prepare their bows. They make ready their arrows on the strings to shoot in the darkness at the upright in heart.

3 If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?

For if the foundations are ruined, what can the righteous do?

4 The LORD is in his holy temple, the LORD’s throne is in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men.

Yahweh is in his holy temple; his eyes watch, his eyes examine the children of mankind.

5 The LORD tries the righteous: but the wicked and him that loves violence his soul hates.

Yahweh examines both the righteous and the wicked, but he hates those who love to do violence.

6 On the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest: this shall be the portion of their cup.

He rains burning coals and brimstone upon the wicked; a scorching wind will be their portion from his cup!

7 For the righteous LORD loves righteousness; his countenance does behold the upright.

For Yahweh is righteous, and he loves righteousness; the upright will see his face.