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.

Načelniku godbe po osmini, psalm Davidov. Daj rešenje, Gospod, ker minil je dobrodelnik; ker izginili so resnični izmed sinov človeških.

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

Prazno govoré drug z drugim, s priliznenimi ustnami, z vojnim srcem govoré.

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

Pokončal bode Gospod vse priliznene ustne, jezik visokobesedni;

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

Njih, ki govoré: Našega jezika pravica bode obveljala, ustne naše so v naši oblasti, kdo bi bil nam gospod?

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.”

Od zatiranja siromakov ubozih, od vpitja revežev vstanem skoraj, govori Gospod; pomagal bodem njemu, v katerega bode pihal žarjavico krivični.

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

Besede Gospodove so čiste besede, srebro očiščeno v izbrani prsteni posodi, osnaženo sedemkrat.

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

Ti, Gospod, ohrani jih; vsakega izmed njih brani tega rodu na veke.

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

Krivični hodijo okrog povsodi, ko se povzdiguje malopridna reč med človeškimi sinovi.