Psalms, Chapter 11
1
For the Chief Musician. [A Psalm] of David. In Yahweh I take refuge: How do you+ say to my soul, Flee to your+ mountain, birds;
2
For, look, the wicked bend the bow, They prepare their arrow on the string, That they may shoot in darkness at the upright in heart;
3
If the foundations are destroyed, What can the righteous do?
4
Yahweh is in his holy temple; Yahweh, his throne is in heaven; His eyes look at, his eyelids try, the sons of man.
5
Yahweh tries the righteous; But the wicked and him who loves violence his soul hates.
6
On the wicked he will rain snares; Fire and brimstone and burning wind will be the portion of their cup.
7
For Yahweh is righteous; he loves righteousness: The upright will see his face.
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