To the director; tuned to Shemʹi·nith.* A melody of David.
12 Save me, O Jehovah, for the loyal one is no more;
Faithful people have vanished from among men.
3 Jehovah will cut off all flattering lips
And the tongue that makes great boasts,+
4 Those who say: “We will prevail with our tongues.
We use our lips as we please;
Who will be our master?”+
5 “Because the afflicted are oppressed,
Because of the sighing of the poor,+
I will rise up to act,” says Jehovah.
“I will save them from those who treat them with contempt.”*
They are like silver refined in an earthen furnace,* purified seven times.