< Psalms 12 >

1 [For the Chief Musician; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David.] Help, Jehovah; for the faithful ceases. For the loyal have vanished from among the descendants of Adam. 2 Everyone lies to his neighbor. They speak with flattering lips, and with a double heart. 3 May Jehovah cut off all flattering lips, and the tongue that boasts, 4 who have said, "With our tongue we will prevail. Our lips are our own. Who is lord over us?" 5 "Because of the oppression of the weak and because of the groaning of the needy, I will now arise," says Jehovah; "I will place in safety the one who longs for it." 6 The words of Jehovah are flawless words, as silver refined in a clay furnace, purified seven times. 7 You, Jehovah, will protect us. You will guard us from this generation forever. 8 The wicked walk on every side, when what is vile is exalted among the descendants of Adam.

< Psalms 12 >