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.

Wɔde ma dwonkyerɛfo se wɔnto no wɔ “Seminit” sanku nne so. Dawid dwom. Boa yɛn, Awurade, na nyamesurofo asa; nokwafo ayera wɔ nnipa mu.

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

Obiara di atoro kyerɛ ne yɔnko; wɔn ano a ɛdɛfɛdɛfɛ no ka nnaadaasɛm.

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

Ma Awurade ntwa nnaadaa ano ne tɛkrɛma biara a ɛhoahoa ne ho nkyene;

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

nea ɛka se, “Yɛde yɛn tɛkrɛma bedi nkonim; yɛn ano bedi ama yɛn, na hena na odi yɛn so tumi?”

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.”

“Esiane ɔhyɛ a wɔde hyɛ mmɔborɔni ne ohiani apinisi no nti, mɛsɔre afei,” Awurade na ose. “Mɛbɔ wɔn ho ban afi wɔn a wɔhaw wɔn no ho.”

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

Awurade asɛm yɛ nokware te sɛ dwetɛ a wɔasɔn so wɔ fononoo mu, na wɔahoa ho mpɛn ason.

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

Awurade, wobɛkora mmɔborɔni na woabɔ yɛn ho ban afi saa nnipa yi ho afebɔɔ.

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

Amumɔyɛfo nenam sɛnea wɔpɛ, bere a adesamma de nidi ma afide.