Psalms 12

1 For the Chief Musician; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David. Help, Yahweh; for the godly man ceases. For the faithful fail from among the children of men.

לַמְנַצֵּחַ עַֽל־הַשְּׁמִינִית מִזְמוֹר לְדָוִֽד׃ הוֹשִׁיעָה יְהוָה כִּי־גָמַר חָסִיד כִּי־פַסּוּ אֱמוּנִים מִבְּנֵי אָדָֽם׃

2 Everyone lies to his neighbor. They speak with flattering lips, and with a double heart.

שָׁוְא ׀ יְֽדַבְּרוּ אִישׁ אֶת־רֵעֵהוּ שְׂפַת חֲלָקוֹת בְּלֵב וָלֵב יְדַבֵּֽרוּ׃

3 May Yahweh cut off all flattering lips, and the tongue that boasts,

יַכְרֵת יְהוָה כָּל־שִׂפְתֵי חֲלָקוֹת לָשׁוֹן מְדַבֶּרֶת גְּדֹלֽוֹת׃

4 who have said, “With our tongue we will prevail. Our lips are our own. Who is lord over us?”

אֲשֶׁר אָֽמְרוּ ׀ לִלְשֹׁנֵנוּ נַגְבִּיר שְׂפָתֵינוּ אִתָּנוּ מִי אָדוֹן לָֽנוּ׃

5 “Because of the oppression of the weak and because of the groaning of the needy, I will now arise,” says Yahweh; “I will set him in safety from those who malign him.”

מִשֹּׁד עֲנִיִּים מֵאַנְקַת אֶבְיוֹנִים עַתָּה אָקוּם יֹאמַר יְהוָה אָשִׁית בְּיֵשַׁע יָפִיחַֽ לֽוֹ׃

6 Yahweh’s words are flawless words, as silver refined in a clay furnace, purified seven times.

אִֽמֲרוֹת יְהוָה אֲמָרוֹת טְהֹרוֹת כֶּסֶף צָרוּף בַּעֲלִיל לָאָרֶץ מְזֻקָּק שִׁבְעָתָֽיִם׃

7 You will keep them, Yahweh. You will preserve them from this generation forever.

אַתָּֽה־יְהוָה תִּשְׁמְרֵם תִּצְּרֶנּוּ ׀ מִן־הַדּוֹר זוּ לְעוֹלָֽם׃

8 The wicked walk on every side, when what is vile is exalted among the sons of men.

סָבִיב רְשָׁעִים יִתְהַלָּכוּן כְּרֻם זֻלּוּת לִבְנֵי אָדָֽם׃