< Psalms 12 >

1 [For the Chief Musician; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David.] Help, Jehovah; for the faithful ceases. For the loyal have vanished from among the descendants of Adam.
Psalmus David in finem, pro octava. Salvum me fac Domine, quoniam defecit sanctus: quoniam diminutae sunt veritates a filiis hominum.
2 Everyone lies to his neighbor. They speak with flattering lips, and with a double heart.
Vana locuti sunt unusquisque ad proximum suum: labia dolosa, in corde et corde locuti sunt.
3 May Jehovah cut off all flattering lips, and the tongue that boasts,
Disperdat Dominus universa labia dolosa, et linguam magniloquam.
4 who have said, "With our tongue we will prevail. Our lips are our own. Who is lord over us?"
Qui dixerunt: Linguam nostram magnificabimus, labia nostra a nobis sunt, quis noster Dominus est?
5 "Because of the oppression of the weak and because of the groaning of the needy, I will now arise," says Jehovah; "I will place in safety the one who longs for it."
Propter miseriam inopum, et gemitum pauperum nunc exurgam, dicit Dominus. Ponam in salutari: fiducialiter agam in eo.
6 The words of Jehovah are flawless words, as silver refined in a clay furnace, purified seven times.
Eloquia Domini, eloquia casta: argentum igne examinatum, probatum terrae purgatum septuplum.
7 You, Jehovah, will protect us. You will guard us from this generation forever.
Tu Domine servabis nos: et custodies nos a generatione hac in aeternum.
8 The wicked walk on every side, when what is vile is exalted among the descendants of Adam.
In circuitu impii ambulant: secundum altitudinem tuam multiplicasti filios hominum.

< Psalms 12 >