| 1 | To 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: |
| 2 | Vanity they speak each with his neighbour, Lip of flattery! With heart and heart they speak. |
| 3 | Jehovah doth cut off all lips of flattery, A tongue speaking great things, |
| 4 | Who said, 'By our tongue we do mightily: Our lips [are] our own; who [is] lord over us?' |
| 5 | Because 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. |
| 6 | Sayings of Jehovah [are] pure sayings; Silver tried in a furnace of earth refined sevenfold. |
| 7 | Thou, O Jehovah, dost preserve them, Thou keepest us from this generation to the age. |
| 8 | Around the wicked walk continually, According as vileness is exalted by sons of men! |