Psalms, Chapter 11
1
For the Chief Musician. [A Psalm] of David.
In [the Speech of] 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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