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 among the children of men.

Kumutungamiri wokuimba. Nesheminiti. Pisarema raDhavhidhi. Batsirai, imi Jehovha, nokuti vanoda Mwari hapachina; vakatendeka vapera pakati pavanhu.

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

Mumwe nomumwe anorevera wokwake nhema; miromo yavo inobata kumeso nokutaura zvinonyengera.

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

Jehovha ngaagure miromo yose inobata kumeso, norurimi rumwe norumwe runozvikudza

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

ruchiti, “Tichakunda nendimi dzedu; miromo ndeyedu, tenzi wedu ndiani?”

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.”

“Nokuda kwokumanikidzwa kwavasina simba nokugomera kwavarombo, ndichasimuka zvino,” ndizvo zvinotaura Jehovha. “Ndichavadzivirira kuna avo vanovaparadza.”

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

Uye mashoko aJehovha haana chaangapomerwa, sesirivha yakacheneswa muchoto chevhu, yakanatswa kanomwe.

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

Imi Jehovha, muchatichengeta murugare uye muchatidzivirira kubva kuvanhu vakadai nokusingaperi.

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

Vakaipa vanofamba-famba vakasununguka kana zvakashata zvichikudzwa pakati pavanhu.