Psalmi 12

1 Pomagaj, Gospod, kajti bogaboječi človek izginja, kajti zvesti izmed človeških otrok slabi.

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 Prazne reči govorijo vsak s svojim bližnjim. Govorijo z laskavimi ustnicami in dvoličnim srcem.

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

3 Gospod bo iztrebil vse laskave ustnice in jezik, ki govori ponosne stvari,

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

4 ki so rekli: »S svojim jezikom bomo prevladali, naše ustnice so naša last. Kdo je gospodar nad nami?«

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

5 »Zaradi zatiranja siromašnega, zaradi vzdihovanja pomoči potrebnega se bom sedaj vzdignil, « govori Gospod, »postavil ga bom na varno pred tistim, ki se napihuje nad njim.«

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 Gospodove besede so čiste besede; kakor srebro, preizkušeno v zemljini talilni peči, sedemkrat prečiščeno.

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

7 Ti jih boš varoval, oh Gospod, pred tem rodom jih boš ohranil na veke.

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

8 Zlobni hodijo na vsaki strani, ko so najnizkotnejši ljudje povišani.

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