1Help, Yahweh; for the godly man ceases. For the faithful fail from among the children of men.
1(Til sangmesteren. Efter den ottende. En salme af David.) HERRE, hjælp, thi de fromme er borte, svundet er Troskab blandt Menneskens Børn;
2Everyone lies to his neighbor. They speak with flattering lips, and with a double heart.
2de taler Løgn, den ene til den anden, med svigefulde Læber og tvedelt Hjerte.
3May Yahweh cut off all flattering lips, and the tongue that boasts,
3Hver svigefuld Læbe udrydde HERREN, den Tunge, der taler store Ord,
4who have said, “With our tongue we will prevail. Our lips are our own. Who is lord over us?”
4dem, som siger: "Vor Tunge gør os stærke, vore Læber er med os, hvo er vor Herre?"
5“Because of the oppression of the weak and because of the groaning of the needy, I will now arise,” says Yahweh; “I will set him in safety from those who malign him.”
5"For armes Nød og fattiges Suk vil jeg nu stå op", siger HERREN, "jeg frelser den, som man blæser ad."
6The words of Yahweh are flawless words, as silver refined in a clay furnace, purified seven times.
6HERRENs Ord er rene Ord, det pure, syvfold lutrede Sølv.
7You will keep them, Yahweh. You will preserve them from this generation forever.
7HERRE, du vogter os, værner os evigt mod denne Slægt.
8The wicked walk on every side, when what is vile is exalted among the sons of men.
8De gudløse færdes frit overalt, når Skarn ophøjes blandt Menneskens Børn.