Psalms 12

1 Fún adarí orin. Gẹ́gẹ́ bí ti ṣeminiti. Saamu ti Dafidi. Ràn wá lọ́wọ́, Olúwa, nítorí ẹni ìwà-bí-Ọlọ́run kò sí mọ́; olóòtítọ́ tí pòórá kúrò láàrín àwọn ènìyàn.

For the chief musician; set to the Sheminith. A psalm of David. Help, Yahweh, for the godly have disappeared; the faithful have vanished.

2 Olúkúlùkù ń parọ́ fún aládùúgbò rẹ̀; ètè èké wọn ń sọ ẹ̀tàn.

Everyone says empty words to his neighbor; everyone speaks with flattering lips and a double heart.

3 Kí Olúwa kí ó gé ètè èké wọn àti gbogbo ahọ́n ìfọ́nnu

Yahweh, cut off all flattering lips, every tongue declaring great things.

4 tí ó wí pé, “Àwa ó borí pẹ̀lú ahọ́n wa; àwa ní ètè wa, ta ni ọ̀gá wa?”

These are those who have said, “With our tongues will we prevail. When our lips speak, who can be master over us?”

5 “Nítorí ìnilára àwọn aláìlágbára àti ìkérora àwọn aláìní, Èmi yóò dìde nísinsin yìí,” ni Olúwa wí. “Èmi yóò dáàbò bò wọ́n lọ́wọ́ àwọn tí ń ṣe àrankàn wọn.”

“Because of violence against the poor, because of the groans of the needy, I will arise,” says Yahweh. “I will provide the safety for which they long.”

6 Ọ̀rọ̀ Olúwa sì jẹ aláìlábùkù, gẹ́gẹ́ bí fàdákà tí a yọ́ nínú ìléru amọ̀, tí a sọ di mímọ́ nígbà méje.

The words of Yahweh are pure words, like silver purified in a furnace on the earth, refined seven times.

7 Olúwa, ìwọ yóò pa wá mọ́ kí o sì gbà wá lọ́wọ́ àwọn ènìyàn wọ̀nyí títí láé.

You are Yahweh! You keep them. You preserve the godly people from this wicked generation and forever.

8 Àwọn ènìyàn búburú ń rin ìrìn fáàrí kiri nígbà tí wọn ń bọ̀wọ̀ fún òsì láàrín àwọn ènìyàn.

The wicked walk on every side when evil is exalted among the children of mankind.