Psalms 11

1 To the chief Musician, A Psalm of David. In the LORD I put my trust: how say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?

Unto the end. A Psalm of David. I trust in the Lord. How can you say to my soul, “Sojourn to the mountain, like a sparrow.”

2 For, lo, the wicked bend their bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may secretly shoot at the upright in heart.

For behold, the sinners have bent their bow. They have prepared their arrows in the quiver, so as to shoot arrows in the dark at the upright of heart.

3 If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?

For they have destroyed the things that you have completed. But what has the just one done?

4 The LORD is in his holy temple, the LORD’S throne is in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men.

The Lord is in his holy temple. The Lord’s throne is in heaven. His eyes look upon the poor. His eyelids question the sons of men.

5 The LORD trieth the righteous: but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.

The Lord questions the just and the impious. Yet he who loves iniquity, hates his own soul.

6 Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest: this shall be the portion of their cup.

He will rain down snares upon sinners. Fire and brimstone and windstorms will be the portion of their cup.

7 For the righteous LORD loveth righteousness; his countenance beholdeth the upright.

For the Lord is just, and he has chosen justice. His countenance has beheld equity.