Psalms, 12

To the director on the lower octave.^*1 A melody of David.

¹ Do save [me],^*1 O Jehovah, for the loyal one has come to an end; For faithful people have vanished from the sons of men.

² Untruth they keep speaking one to the other; With a smooth lip they keep speaking even with a double heart.^*1

³ Jehovah will cut off all smooth lips, The tongue speaking great things,

⁴ Those who have said: “With our tongue we shall prevail. Our lips are with us. Who will be a master to us?”

⁵ “Because of the despoiling of the afflicted ones, because of the sighing of the poor ones, I shall at this time arise,” says Jehovah. “I shall put [him] in safety from anyone that puffs at him.”

⁶ The sayings of Jehovah are pure sayings, As silver refined in a smelting furnace^*1 of earth, clarified seven times.

⁷ You yourself, O Jehovah, will guard them; You will preserve each one from this generation to time indefinite.

⁸ The wicked ones walk all around, Because vileness is exalted among the sons of men.