< 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.

< Psalms 12 >