Psalms 12

1 To the Chief Musician. On the Octave. A Melody of David. O save Yahweh, for the man of lovingkindness, is no more, for the faithful, have vanished, from among the sons of men.

Bawipa ni bawm lah, Khawsa ak kqih thlang am awm voel hy. Thlanghqingkhqi anglakawh thlang ypawm qeeng kang hawh hy.

2 Deception, speak they, every one with his neighbour, —with lips uttering smooth things—with a heart and a heart, do they speak.

Thlang boeih ing a imceng venawh qaih awi kqawn unawh; awih haal kqawnnaak hui ing ami qaai kqawn boeih hawh uhy.

3 May Yahweh cut off All the lips that utter smooth things, —the tongue that speaketh swelling words;

Bawipa ing awih haal kqawn nawh huikhqi ce qeet pek khqi seitaw, oek qunaak lai awm qeet pe seh.

4 Them who say—With our tongue, will we prevail, our lips, are our own, who is our master?

Lai ing ni noeng khqi ngai bit kaw; hui ni ta u saw kaw ningnih a boei na u nu ak awm bai?” ak tikhqi ce.

5 Because of violence done to the poor, because of the crying of the needy, Now, will I arise! O may Yahweh say, —I will place [him] in safety—let him puff at him!

Tha amak awm khawdeng thlangkhqi ingkaw, kaw amak ta thlanghqing konaak awi awh, tuh taw tho hawh kawng nyng. Cekkhqi ak kqawn seetkungkhqi ven awhkawng chung a hlip khqi kawng,” tinawh Bawipa ing tihy.

6 The words of Yahweh, are words, that are pure, silver refined in a crucible of earth, purified seven times!

BawipaK awikhqi taw coet am kap qoe nawh, deknawng maih hlawk awh voei khqih dy ngun a tui tle ing myih hy.

7 Thou, O Yahweh, wilt keep them, —Thou wilt guard him, from this generation unto times age-abiding.

Aw Bawipa, nang ing ni loet sak kawm tiksaw, cemyih, thlangkhqi anglakawhkawng ni hlip nik chung kawp ti.

8 On every side, the lawless, march about, —when worthlessness is exalted by the sons of men.

Thlangkhqi anglakawh chahnak hly kawi ik-oeih zoeksangnaak a awm awh, thlak chekhqi taw ami ngaih ngaih na chah phyih doena cet uhy.