Sòm 12

1 Pou direktè koral la; sou yon gita uit kòd Yon sòm David. Sekou, SENYÈ, paske moun ladwati yo sispann egziste, Paske fidèl yo vin disparèt pami fis a lòm yo.

To the Chief Musician. On the Octave. A Melody of David. O save Yahweh, for the man of lovingkindness, is no more, for the faithful, have vanished, from among the sons of men.

2 Yo pale sa ki fo a youn lòt. Lèv flatè yo ak kè doub yo pale.

Deception, speak they, every one with his neighbour, —with lips uttering smooth things—with a heart and a heart, do they speak.

3 Ke SENYÈ a vin koupe tout lèv flatè yo, ak lang ki pale gwo bagay yo;

May Yahweh cut off All the lips that utter smooth things, —the tongue that speaketh swelling words;

4 ki te di: “Avèk lang nou, nou va reyisi. Lèv nou se pou nou. Se kilès ki kab mèt sou nou?”

Them who say—With our tongue, will we prevail, our lips, are our own, who is our master?

5 “Akoz dega a aflije yo, akoz kri a malere yo, koulye a, Mwen va leve”, pale SENYÈ a; “Mwen va mete li ansekirite de (sila) ki maltrete l la.”

Because of violence done to the poor, because of the crying of the needy, Now, will I arise! O may Yahweh say, —I will place [him] in safety—let him puff at him!

6 Pawòl a SENYÈ a se pawòl ki san tach; tankou ajan ki teste nan founo, rafine nan tè sèt fwa.

The words of Yahweh, are words, that are pure, silver refined in a crucible of earth, purified seven times!

7 Ou menm, O SENYÈ, va pwoteje yo. Ou va prezève yo soti nan jenerasyon (sila) a jis pou tout tan.

Thou, O Yahweh, wilt keep them, —Thou wilt guard him, from this generation unto times age-abiding.

8 Mechan yo pwomennen toupatou tout kote lè bagay ki lèd vin leve wo pami fis a lòm yo.

On every side, the lawless, march about, —when worthlessness is exalted by the sons of men.