PSALMS 11	المزمور الحادى عشر
1 To the Chief Musician. A Psalm of David. In the Lord I put my trust; How can you say to my soul, "Flee as a bird to your mountain"?	1 لإِمَامِ الْمُغَنِّينَ. لِدَاوُدَ عَلَى الرَّبِّ تَوَكَّلْتُ. كَيْفَ تَقُولُونَ لِنَفْسِي: [اهْرُبُوا إِلَى جِبَالِكُمْ كَعُصْفُورٍ]؟
2 For look! The wicked bend their bow, They make ready their arrow on the string, That they may shoot secretly at the upright in heart.	2 لأَنَّهُ هُوَذَا الأَشْرَارُ يَمُدُّونَ الْقَوْسَ. فَوَّقُوا السَّهْمَ فِي الْوَتَرِ لِيَرْمُوا فِي الدُّجَى مُسْتَقِيمِي الْقُلُوبِ.
3 If the foundations are destroyed, What can the righteous do?	3 إِذَا انْقَلَبَتِ الأَعْمِدَةُ فَالصِّدِّيقُ مَاذَا يَفْعَلُ؟
4 The Lord is in His holy temple, The Lord's throne is in heaven; His eyes behold, His eyelids test the sons of men.	4 اَلرَّبُّ فِي هَيْكَلِ قُدْسِهِ. الرَّبُّ فِي السَّمَاءِ كُرْسِيُّهُ. عَيْنَاهُ تَنْظُرَانِ. أَجْفَانُهُ تَمْتَحِنُ بَنِي آدَمَ.
5 The Lord tests the righteous, But the wicked and the one who loves violence His soul hates.	5 الرَّبُّ يَمْتَحِنُ الصِّدِّيقَ. أَمَّا الشِّرِّيرُ وَمُحِبُّ الظُّلْمِ فَتُبْغِضُهُ نَفْسُهُ.
6 Upon the wicked He will rain coals; Fire and brimstone and a burning wind Shall be the portion of their cup.	6 يُمْطِرُ عَلَى الأَشْرَارِ فِخَاخاً نَاراً وَكِبْرِيتاً وَرِيحَ السَّمُومِ نَصِيبَ كَأْسِهِمْ.
7 For the Lord is righteous, He loves righteousness; His countenance beholds the upright.	7 لأَنَّ الرَّبَّ عَادِلٌ وَيُحِبُّ الْعَدْلَ. الْمُسْتَقِيمُ يُبْصِرُ وَجْهَهُ.