Salmenes 12

1 Til sangmesteren, efter Sjeminit; en salme av David. Frels, Herre! for de fromme er borte, de trofaste er forsvunnet blandt menneskenes barn.

For the music director. To the Sheminith. A psalm of David. Help, Lord, for all the good people have gone! Those who trust in you have disappeared from among the people on earth.

2 Løgn taler de, hver med sin næste, med falske leber; med tvesinnet hjerte taler de.

Everyone lies to their neighbors. They flatter with nice talk, but they don't mean what they say.

3 Herren utrydde alle falske leber, den tunge som taler store ord,

Stop their flattery, Lord, and silence their boasts—

4 dem som sier: Ved vår tunge skal vi få overhånd, våre leber er med oss, hvem er herre over oss?

these people who say, “We will succeed through what we say; our mouths belong to us. We don't take orders from anyone!”

5 For de elendiges ødeleggelses skyld, for de fattiges sukks skyld vil jeg nu reise mig, sier Herren; jeg vil gi dem frelse som stunder efter den.

“Because of the violence the helpless have suffered, and because of the groans of the poor, I will rise up to defend them,” says the Lord. “I will give them the protection they have been longing for.”

6 Herrens ord er rene ord, likesom sølv som er renset i en smeltedigel i jorden, syv ganger renset.

What the Lord says is trustworthy, as pure as silver refined seven times in a furnace.

7 Du, Herre, vil bevare dem, du vil vokte dem for denne slekt evindelig.

You, Lord will keep the oppressed safe; you will protect us from these kinds of people forever;

8 Rundt omkring svermer de ugudelige, når skarn er ophøiet blandt menneskenes barn.

even though the wicked are all around us, and evil is being promoted everywhere.