For the music director, on the eight-string lyre, a Psalm of David.
Help, Adonai! .. For no one godly exists.
.. For the faithful have vanished from the children of men.
Everyone tells a lie to his neighbour, talking with flattering lips and a divided heart.
May Adonai cut off all flattering lips - a tongue bragging big things.
They say: "With our tongue we'll prevail. We own our lips - who can master us?"
Because of the oppression of the poor, because of the groaning of the needy, now will I arise", says Adonai.
"I will put him in the safe place - he pants for it".
The words of Adonai are pure words - like silver refined in an earthly crucible, purified seven times.
You will keep us safe, Adonai.
You will protect us from this generation, forever.
The wicked strut all around, while vileness is exalted by mankind.
Help, Adonai! .. For no one godly exists.
.. For the faithful have vanished from the children of men.
Everyone tells a lie to his neighbour, talking with flattering lips and a divided heart.
May Adonai cut off all flattering lips - a tongue bragging big things.
They say: "With our tongue we'll prevail. We own our lips - who can master us?"
Because of the oppression of the poor, because of the groaning of the needy, now will I arise", says Adonai.
"I will put him in the safe place - he pants for it".
The words of Adonai are pure words - like silver refined in an earthly crucible, purified seven times.
You will keep us safe, Adonai.
You will protect us from this generation, forever.
The wicked strut all around, while vileness is exalted by mankind.
