Psalms 12

1 For the Chief Musician; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David. Help, LORD; for the godly man ceases. For the faithful fail from amongst the children of men.

Fún adarí orin. Gẹ́gẹ́ bí ti ṣeminiti. Saamu ti Dafidi. Ràn wá lọ́wọ́, Olúwa, nítorí ẹni ìwà-bí-Ọlọ́run kò sí mọ́; olóòtítọ́ tí pòórá kúrò láàrín àwọn ènìyàn.

2 Everyone lies to his neighbour. They speak with flattering lips, and with a double heart.

Olúkúlùkù ń parọ́ fún aládùúgbò rẹ̀; ètè èké wọn ń sọ ẹ̀tàn.

3 May the LORD cut off all flattering lips, and the tongue that boasts,

Kí Olúwa kí ó gé ètè èké wọn àti gbogbo ahọ́n ìfọ́nnu

4 who have said, “With our tongue we will prevail. Our lips are our own. Who is lord over us?”

tí ó wí pé, “Àwa ó borí pẹ̀lú ahọ́n wa; àwa ní ètè wa, ta ni ọ̀gá wa?”

5 “Because of the oppression of the weak and because of the groaning of the needy, I will now arise,” says the LORD; “I will set him in safety from those who malign him.”

“Nítorí ìnilára àwọn aláìlágbára àti ìkérora àwọn aláìní, Èmi yóò dìde nísinsin yìí,” ni Olúwa wí. “Èmi yóò dáàbò bò wọ́n lọ́wọ́ àwọn tí ń ṣe àrankàn wọn.”

6 The LORD’s words are flawless words, as silver refined in a clay furnace, purified seven times.

Ọ̀rọ̀ Olúwa sì jẹ aláìlábùkù, gẹ́gẹ́ bí fàdákà tí a yọ́ nínú ìléru amọ̀, tí a sọ di mímọ́ nígbà méje.

7 You will keep them, LORD. You will preserve them from this generation forever.

Olúwa, ìwọ yóò pa wá mọ́ kí o sì gbà wá lọ́wọ́ àwọn ènìyàn wọ̀nyí títí láé.

8 The wicked walk on every side, when what is vile is exalted amongst the sons of men.

Àwọn ènìyàn búburú ń rin ìrìn fáàrí kiri nígbà tí wọn ń bọ̀wọ̀ fún òsì láàrín àwọn ènìyàn.