Текст песни Ветхий завет - 11 Псалтирь

Psalm 11, a psalm

1 To the chief Musician. On vosmistrunnom. A Psalm of David.
2 Save [me], O Lord, for they do not become righteous, because there is no true among the sons of men.
3 Lies says every one with his neighbor; flattering lips speak from the heart feigned.
4 The LORD shall cut off all flattering lips, the tongue that speaketh proud things,
5 those who say: "the language we prevail, our lips with us who we mister"?
6 For the oppression of the poor, for the sighing of the needy, now will I arise, says the Lord, put in safety, who want to catch.
7 The words of the Lord - are pure words, silver refined in a furnace of earth, remelting seven times.
8 Thou, O Lord, preserve them from this generation for ever.
9 wicked walk when paltry from the sons of men have risen.