Psalms 11

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

Wuta na buku ya mokambi ya bayembi. Nzembo ya Davidi. Kati na Yawe, nazali koluka ebombamelo. Ndenge nini bokoka koloba na ngai: « Kimela na ngomba na bino lokola ndeke? »

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.

Pamba te, tala, bato mabe babendaka batolotolo na bango, batiaka bambanzi na bango na singa mpo na kobamba yango longwa na molili bato oyo bazali na mitema sembo.

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

Soki miboko ebukani, moto ya sembo akoki kosala nini?

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.

Yawe azali kati na Tempelo na Ye ya bule; Yawe avandi na Kiti na Ye ya Bokonzi kati na Lola. Azali kotala bato nyonso; mpe miso na Ye ezali kososola mozindo ya mitema na bango.

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

Yawe atalaka mozindo ya moto ya sembo, kasi ayinaka makasi moto mabe elongo na moto oyo asepelaka na mobulu.

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

Tika ete akweyisela bato mabe makala ya moto, sofolo ya moto! Mpe mopepe ya moto ekozala libula na bango.

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

Pamba te Yawe azali sembo, alingaka bosembo. Bato ya sembo bakomona elongi na Ye.