Nnwom 12

1 Wɔde ma dwomkyerɛfoɔ sɛ wɔnto no wɔ “Seminit” sankuo nne so. Dawid dwom. Boa yɛn, Awurade, na nyamesurofoɔ asa; nokwafoɔ ayera wɔ nnipa mu.

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 Obiara di atorɔ kyerɛ ne yɔnko; wɔn ano a ɛdɛfɛdɛfɛ no ka nnaadaasɛm.

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

3 Ma Awurade ntwa nnaadaa ano ne tɛkrɛma biara a ɛhoahoa ne ho ntwene;

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

4 wɔn a wɔse, “Yɛde yɛn tɛkrɛma bɛdi nkonim; yɛn ano yɛ yɛn dea, na hwan ne yɛn wura?”

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

5 “Esiane nhyɛ a wɔde hyɛ mmɔborɔni no ne ohiani apenesie no enti, mɛsɔre afei,” Awurade na ɔseɛ. “Mɛbɔ wɔn ho ban afiri wɔn a wɔha wɔn ho.”

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 Awurade asɛm yɛ nokorɛ te sɛ dwetɛ a wɔasɔne so wɔ fononoo mu, na wɔahoa ho mprɛnson.

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

7 Ao Awurade, wobɛkora yɛn na woabɔ yɛn ho ban afebɔɔ afiri saa abɔnefoɔ yi ho,

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

8 abɔnefoɔ a wɔnenam sɛdeɛ wɔpɛ ɛberɛ a adasamma de anidie ma afideɛ.

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