1To the Overseer, on the octave. -- A Psalm of David. Save, Jehovah, for the saintly hath failed, For the stedfast have ceased
From the sons of men:
2Vanity they speak each with his neighbour, Lip of flattery! With heart and heart they speak.
3Jehovah doth cut off all lips of flattery, A tongue speaking great things,
4Who said, `By our tongue we do mightily: Our lips [are] our own; who [is] lord over us?`
5Because of the spoiling of the poor, Because of the groaning of the needy, Now do I arise, saith Jehovah, I set in safety
[him who] doth breathe for it.
6Sayings of Jehovah [are] pure sayings; Silver tried in a furnace of earth refined sevenfold.
7Thou, O Jehovah, dost preserve them, Thou keepest us from this generation to the age.
8Around the wicked walk continually, According as vileness is exalted by sons of men!