Psalms 11

1 In Yhwh put I my trust: how say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?

For the music director: A psalm of David. Lord, you are my protection. So how can you tell me, “Fly away to the mountains like a 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.

Look, the wicked are drawing their bows, loading them with arrows ready to shoot from the shadows at good people.

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

When the foundations of society are destroyed, what can those who live right do?

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

The Lord is in his Temple; the Lord's throne is in heaven. He keeps a close eye on everyone, watching them carefully.

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

The Lord examines both those who do right and those who do evil, but he hates those who love violence.

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 make blazing coals and sulfur rain down on the wicked; a scorching wind is what's coming on them.

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

The Lord does what is right, and he loves those who live right. Those who do good will see him face to face.