¹ [For the choirmaster On the octachord Psalm Of David] Help, Yahweh! No one loyal is left, the faithful have vanished from among the children of Adam.

² Friend tells lies to friend, and, smooth-tongued, speaks from an insincere heart.

³ May Yahweh cut away every smooth lip, every boastful tongue,

⁴ those who say, 'In our tongue lies our strength, our lips are our allies; who can master us?'

⁵ 'For the poor who are plundered, the needy who groan, now will I act,' says Yahweh, 'I will grant salvation to those who sigh for it.'

⁶ Yahweh's promises are promises unalloyed, natural silver which comes from the earth seven times refined.

⁷ You, Yahweh, will watch over them, you will protect them from that brood for ever.

⁸ The wicked will scatter in every direction, as the height of depravity among the children of Adam.