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.

For the chief music-maker on the Sheminith. A Psalm. Of David. Send help, Lord, for mercy has come to an end; there is no more faith among the children of men.

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

Everyone says false words to his neighbour: their tongues are smooth in their talk, and their hearts are full of deceit.

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

The smooth lips and the tongue of pride will be cut off by the Lord.

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

They have said, With our tongues will we overcome; our lips are ours: who is lord over us?

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.”

Because of the crushing of the poor and the weeping of those in need, now will I come to his help, says the Lord; I will give him the salvation which he is desiring.

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

The words of the Lord are true words: like silver tested by fire and burned clean seven times.

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

You will keep them, O Lord, you will keep them safe from this generation for ever.

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

The sinners are walking on every side, and evil is honoured among the children of men.