Psalms 11

1 For the chief musician. A psalm of David. I take refuge in Yahweh; how will you say to me, “Flee like a bird to the mountain”?

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

2 For see! The wicked prepare their bows. They make ready their arrows on the strings to shoot in the darkness at the upright in heart.

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.

3 For if the foundations are ruined, what can the righteous do?

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

4 Yahweh is in his holy temple; his eyes watch, his eyes examine the children of mankind.

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

5 Yahweh examines both the righteous and the wicked, but he hates those who love to do violence.

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

6 He rains burning coals and brimstone upon the wicked; a scorching wind will be their portion from his cup!

Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest: this shall be the portion of their cup.

7 For Yahweh is righteous, and he loves righteousness; the upright will see his face.

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