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?

Ho an’ ny mpiventy hira. Nataon’ i Davida.

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.

Fa, indro, ny ratsy fanahy manenjana ny tsipìkany; efa nanamboatra ny zana-tsipìkany eo amin’ ny kofehy izy, nikendry tao amin’ ny maizina hitifitra ny mahitsy fo.

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

Fa rava ny fanorenana, ka inona indray no azon’ ny marina atao?

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.

Jehovah dia ao amin’ ny tempoliny masìna, ny seza fiandrianan’ i Jehovah dia any an-danitra; ny masony mijery, eny, ny hodi-masony mizaha toetra ny zanak’ olombelona.

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

Jehovah mizaha toetra ny marina; fa ny ratsy fanahy sy ny mifaly hampidi-doza dia samy halan’ ny fanahiny.

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

Handatsaka fandrika amin’ ny ratsy fanahy Izy tahaka ny fandatsaka ranonorana; afo sy solifara ary rivo-mahamay no ho anjara kapoakany.

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

Fa marina Jehovah, ka fahamarinana no tiany; ny mahitsy no hahita ny tavany.