Chapter Text
12:1 For the choir director. According to the Sheminith. A Psalm of David. Save, O Yahweh, for the holy man ceases to be, For the faithful disappear from among the sons of men.
12:2 They speak worthlessness to one another; With a flattering lip and with a double heart they speak.
12:3 May Yahweh cut off all flattering lips, The tongue that speaks great things;
12:4 Who have said, “With our tongue we will prevail; Our lips are our own; who is lord over us?”
12:5 “Because of the devastation of the afflicted, because of the groaning of the needy, Now I will arise,” says Yahweh; “I will set him in the safety for which he longs.”
12:6 The words of Yahweh are pure words; As silver tried in a furnace on the ground, refined seven times.
12:7 You, O Yahweh, will keep them; You will guard him from this generation forever.
12:8 The wicked strut about on every side When vileness is exalted among the sons of men.