Psalms 11

1 IN the Lord put I my trust: how say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?

To the Chief Musician. David’s. In Yahweh, have I sought refuge. How can ye say to my soul, Flee to a mountain like a little bird;

2 For, lo, the wicked bend their bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may privily shoot at the upright in heart.

For lo! the lawless, bend the bow They have fixed their arrow upon the string, To shoot in the darkness at the upright in heart:

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

When the pillars are overthrown, What could, a righteous man, 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 As for Yahweh, in the heavens, is his throne, His eyes, behold—His eyelashes test the sons of men.

5 The Lord trieth the righteous: but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.

Yahweh, putteth, the righteous, to the test, —But the lawless one and the lover of violence, his soul doth hate.

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

He will rain upon the lawless live-coals, Fire and brimstone and a burning wind, are the portion of their cup.

7 For the righteous Lord loveth righteousness; his countenance doth behold the upright.

For righteous is Yahweh Righteousness, he loveth, the upright, shall behold his face.