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.

To the Overseer, on the octave. — A Psalm of David. Save, Jehovah, for the saintly hath failed, For the stedfast have ceased From the sons of men:

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

Vanity they speak each with his neighbour, Lip of flattery! With heart and heart they speak.

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

Jehovah doth cut off all lips of flattery, A tongue speaking great things,

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

Who said, 'By our tongue we do mightily: Our lips [are] our own; who [is] lord over us?'

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!

Because of the spoiling of the poor, Because of the groaning of the needy, Now do I arise, saith Jehovah, I set in safety [him who] doth breathe for it.

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

Sayings of Jehovah [are] pure sayings; Silver tried in a furnace of earth refined sevenfold.

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

Thou, O Jehovah, dost preserve them, Thou keepest us from this generation to the age.

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

Around the wicked walk continually, According as vileness is exalted by sons of men!