Psalm
To the director on the lower octave.*+ A melody of David.
12 Do save [me],*+ 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.*+
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* of earth, clarified seven times.