Psalms 12

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

Ki he Takimuʻa ʻi he Semini, ko e Saame ʻa Tevita. ‌ʻE Sihova, ke ke fakamoʻui; he kuo ngata ʻae tangata anga fakaʻotua; he ʻoku fakaʻaʻau ʻo tokosiʻi ʻae angatonu ʻi he ngaahi fānau ʻae tangata.

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

‌ʻOku nau taki taha lea loi ki hono kaungāʻapi: ʻoku nau lea ʻi he loungutu lapu mo e kākā.

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

‌ʻE fakaʻauha ʻe Sihova ʻae ngaahi loungutu lapu kotoa pē, pea mo e ʻelelo ʻoku lea ʻaki ʻae ngaahi meʻa fakafielahi:

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

‌ʻAkinautolu naʻe pehē, “Te tau ikuna ʻaki hotau ʻelelo; ʻoku ʻotautolu pe hotau loungutu: ko hai ʻae ʻeiki kiate kitautolu?

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

‌ʻOku pehē ʻe Sihova, “Ko e meʻa ʻi he fakamālohiʻi ʻoe masiva, mo e ngaahi mafulu ʻoe vaivai, te u tuʻu hake; te u fokotuʻu moʻui ia meiate ia ʻaia ʻoku manuki kiate ia.”

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

Ko e ngaahi folofola ʻa Sihova ko e folofola maʻa ia: ʻo hangē ko e siliva kuo ʻahiʻahi ʻi he kulo ʻumea, kuo tuʻo fitu hono fakamaʻa.

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

‌ʻE Sihova, te ke tauhi ʻakinautolu, te ke fakamoʻui ʻakinautolu mei he toʻutangata ni ʻo taʻengata.

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

‌ʻOku ʻeveʻeva ʻae angakovi ʻi he potu kotoa pē, ʻoka hakeakiʻi ʻae kau tangata ʻoku mātuʻaki kovi.