< Salamo 12 >
1 Rombaho, ry Iehovà, fa tsy eo ondaty matarikeo; mimosaoñe amo ana’ ondatio o migahiñeo.
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 Hene mifandañitse aman-drañetse ondatio, reke-tsoñy mitsiriry naho troke-miroe-rehake.
Deception, speak they, every one with his neighbour, —with lips uttering smooth things—with a heart and a heart, do they speak.
3 Haitoa’ Iehovà ze hene fivimby mandomboke, naho ty fameleke mitrè fibohabohàñe,
May Yahweh cut off All the lips that utter smooth things, —the tongue that speaketh swelling words;
4 ami’ty hoe: O lela’aio ro handreketa’ay; anay o soñi’aio; ia ty mpifehe anay?
Them who say—With our tongue, will we prevail, our lips, are our own, who is our master?
5 Ty fampisoañañe o rarakeo, naho ty fitoreova’ o mpisotrio, ty iongahako henaneo, hoe t’Iehovà, Fa hampipalireko amy isehasehà’ey.
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 Fetse ki’e o fepè’ Iehovào, volafoty nitsoheñe an-toñan-tsini-hara; nitranaheñe im-pito.
The words of Yahweh, are words, that are pure, silver refined in a crucible of earth, purified seven times!
7 Arovo irezay ry Iehovà, ambeno ami’ty tariratse toy nainai’e donia,
Thou, O Yahweh, wilt keep them, —Thou wilt guard him, from this generation unto times age-abiding.
8 Mitsapiotsapioke mbeo’ mbeo o tsivokatseo, naho onjoneñe amo ana’ ondatio ty haloloañe.
On every side, the lawless, march about, —when worthlessness is exalted by the sons of men.