Psalm 12
For the music director, on an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David.
1Help, YHWH!
For the faithful have come to an end.
For the faithful have vanished from the children of humankind.
2Everyone lies to their neighbor.
They speak with flattering lips and with a duplicitous heart-heart.
3May YHWH cut off all flattering lips,
and the tongue that boasts,
4those who say, “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 the groaning of the needy,
I will now arise,” says YHWH.
“I will provide the safety they desire.”
6The words or YHWH are flawless words,
like silver refined in a crucible, purified seven times.
7You will protect them, YHWH.
You will preserve them from this generation forever.
8The wicked walk on every side,
when what is vile is exalted among the children of humanity.