Psalms 11

1 To the chief Musician, [A Psalm] of David. In the LORD I put my trust: how say ye to my soul, Flee [as] a bird to your mountain?

Abụ Ọma nke dịrị onyeisi abụ. Abụ ọma Devid. Nʼime Onyenwe anyị ka m mere ebe mgbaba m. Gịnị mere i ji na-agwa m okwu sị, “Felagaa nʼelu ugwu gị dịka nnụnụ.”

2 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.

Nʼihi na ndị ajọ omume ekweela ụta ha; ha edoziela àkụ nʼelu eriri ụta ha, zoo onwe ha nʼakụkụ ụzọ, ịnọ nʼọchịchịrị, gbaa ndị obi ha ziri ezi ụta.

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

Mgbe a na-ebibi ntọala niile, gịnị ka ndị ezi omume pụrụ ime?

4 The LORD [is] in his holy temple, the LORD'S throne [is] in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try the children of men.

Onyenwe anyị nọ nʼụlọnsọ ukwuu ya; Onyenwe anyị nọkwa nʼelu ocheeze ya dị nʼeluigwe. Ọ na-ahụzu ihe niile ụmụ mmadụ na-eme; anya ya na-anwalekwa ụzọ ha.

5 The LORD trieth the righteous: but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.

Onyenwe anyị na-ele onye ezi omume ule, ma onye ajọ omume na ndị niile hụrụ imebi iwu nʼanya, ka ọ na-akpọ asị nke ukwuu.

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

Ọ ga-eme ka nkume ọkụ zokwasị ndị ajọ omume dịka mmiri ozuzo; oke ifufe dị ọkụ ga-abụ ihe nketa ha.

7 For the righteous LORD loveth righteousness; his countenance beholdeth the upright.

Nʼihi na Onyenwe anyị bụ onye ezi omume, ọ hụkwara ikpe ziri ezi nʼanya; ndị ezi omume niile ga-ahụkwa ihu ya anya.