Psalms 12

1 For the chief musician; set to the Sheminith. A psalm of David. Help, Yahweh, for the godly have disappeared; the faithful have vanished.

Unto the end; for the octave, a psalm for David. Save me, O Lord, for there is now no saint: truths are decayed from among the children of men.

2 Everyone says empty words to his neighbor; everyone speaks with flattering lips and a double heart.

They have spoken vain things every one to his neighbour: with deceitful lips, and with a double heart have they spoken.

3 Yahweh, cut off all flattering lips, every tongue declaring great things.

May the Lord destroy all deceitful lips, and the tongue that speaketh proud things.

4 These are those who have said, “With our tongues will we prevail. When our lips speak, who can be master over us?”

Who have said: We will magnify our tongue; our lips are our own; who is Lord over us?

5 “Because of violence against the poor, because of the groans of the needy, I will arise,” says Yahweh. “I will provide the safety for which they long.”

By reason of the misery of the needy, and the groans of the poor, now will I arise, saith the Lord. I win set him in safety; I will deal confidently in his regard.

6 The words of Yahweh are pure words, like silver purified in a furnace on the earth, refined seven times.

The words of the Lord are pure words: as silver tried by the fire, purged from the earth refined seven times.

7 You are Yahweh! You keep them. You preserve the godly people from this wicked generation and forever.

Thou, O Lord, wilt preserve us: and keep us from this generation for ever.

8 The wicked walk on every side when evil is exalted among the children of mankind.

The wicked walk round about: according to thy highness, thou best multiplied the children of men.