Psalms 11

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

Amy Iehovà ao ty fipalirako; akore ty ivolaña’ areo an-troko ty hoe: Mivoratsaha hoe voroñe mb’am-bohi’o mb’eo;

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.

Hehe te mampibitsoke fàle o lo-tserekeo, le fa ginao’ iereo an-taly o ana-pale’eo, hahirirì’ iereo añ’ieñe ao mb’amo vantañ’arofoo;

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

Naho rotsake o manàntañeo, ino ty lefe’ o vañoñeo hanoeñe?

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.

Añ’anjomba’e miavake ao t’Iehovà, an-dindìñe ao ty iambesara’ Iehovà; mivazoho o fihaino’eo, mitsoke o ana’ ondatio o vohomaso’eo.

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

Tsohe’ Iehovà o vantañeo, fe heje’ ty arofo’e ty lo-tsereke, naho i piaroteñey.

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

Hampifororoaha’e vaen’afo mirekake o tsivokatseo; afo naho ponde vaho tio-mae ty ho anjaram-pitovi’ iareo.

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

Amy te vantañe t’Iehovà; kokoa’e ty havañonañe ho isa’ o mahitio ty lahara’e.