The Preacher

Her predeker gy schult jw nicht vor veren
vnde nicht alto sere teghen my weren
ik byn dy doet jwe alder hogheste raet
dantzet nu met my vnde west nich quat
vele scarmone hebbe gy van my gedan
gy muthen ok mith my an den dantz ghan

Mr Preacher - you shall not be terrified
and not resist me too much.
I am Death, your very highest counsel.
Dance now with me and don't be bad.
Many sermons have you done about me;
you must also go with me in the dance.

Och gude doet geff my doch noch lengher frist
wen du myn alder leueste kumpan bist
och my duncket ik kan met dy nicht wynnen
och wat sal ik arme man nu begynnen
snelliken steruen is eyn grot vngheual
help my jhesu vnde den geistliken al

Oh good Death - give me still longer respite
for you are my most dear companion.
Oh, I think I can't win with you.
Oh, what shall I poor man now begin?
To die quickly is a great misfortune.
Help me, Jesus!, and all the clergy.