Psalmi 12

1 Pomagaj, Gospode; jer nesta svetijeh, jer je malo vjernijeh meðu sinovima èovjeèijim.

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 Laž govore jedan drugome, usnama lažljivijem govore iz srca dvolièna.

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

3 Istrijebiæe Gospod sva usta lažljiva, jezik velièavi,

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

4 Ljude, koji govore: jezikom smo jaki, usta su naša u nas, ko je gospodar nad nama?

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

5 Videæi stradanje nevoljnih i uzdisanje ništih, sad æu ustati, veli Gospod, i izbaviti onoga kome zlobe.

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 Rijeèi su Gospodnje rijeèi èiste, srebro u vatri oèišæeno od zemlje, sedam puta pretopljeno.

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

7 Ti æeš nas, Gospode, odbraniti, i saèuvati nas od roda ovoga dovijeka.

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

8 Bezbožnici idu naokolo; kad se oni podižu, sramote se sinovi èovjeèiji.

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