Psalms 11

1 “To the chief musician, by David.” In the Lord have I put my trust: how can ye say to my soul, Flee to your mountain as a bird?

Nǝƣmiqilǝrning bexiƣa tapxurulup oⱪulsun dǝp, Dawut yazƣan küy: — Pǝrwǝrdigarni baxpanaⱨim ⱪildim; Əmdi silǝr ⱪandaⱪmu manga: «Ⱪuxtǝk ɵz teƣingƣa uqup ⱪaq!

2 For lo, the wicked bend their bow, they arrange their arrow upon the string, to shoot in the dark at the upright in heart.

Qünki mana, rǝzillǝr kamanni tartip, Ⱪarangƣuluⱪtin kɵngli duruslarƣa ⱪaritip atmaⱪqi bolup, Ular oⱪni kiriqⱪa selip ⱪoydi;

3 For [if] the foundations be torn down, what can the righteous do?

«Ullar ⱨalak ⱪilinsa, Əmdi ⱨǝⱪⱪaniylar nemimu ⱪilar?»» — dǝwatisilǝr?

4 The Lord is in his holy temple, the Lord hath his throne in the heavens, his eyes behold, his eyelids prove, the children of men.

Pǝrwǝrdigar Ɵzining muⱪǝddǝs ibadǝthanisididur, Pǝrwǝrdigarning tǝhti asmanlardidur; U nǝzǝr salidu, Uning sǝzgür kɵzliri insan balilirini kɵzitip, sinaydu.

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

Pǝrwǝrdigar ⱨǝⱪⱪaniy adǝmni sinaydu; Rǝzillǝrgǝ wǝ zorawanliⱪⱪa huxtarlarƣa u iq-iqidin nǝprǝtlinidu.

6 He letteth rain upon the wicked burning coals, fire and brimstone; and a glowing wind is the portion of their cup.

U rǝzillǝrgǝ ⱪapⱪanlar, ot wǝ günggürtni yaƣduridu; Piȥƣirim ⱪiziⱪ xamal ularning ⱪǝdǝⱨidiki nesiwisi bolidu.

7 For righteous is the Lord, he loveth righteousness: his countenance doth behold the upright.

Qünki Pǝrwǝrdigar ⱨǝⱪⱪaniydur; Ⱨǝⱪⱪaniyliⱪ Uning amriⱪidur; Kɵngli duruslar Uning didarini kɵridu.