The knight

Her ritter med juweme krewete stolt
hir hebbe gy gedragen dat rode golt
hebbe gy iwer ere hir genuch gedhan
so moge gy nhu froliken mede my ghan
legget dat scarpe swert van iwer siden
gi muthen med my an den dodendantz gliden

Mr Knight with your proud armour,
here have you worn the red gold.(1)
Have you done enough for your honour here
then you may go happily with me.
Put that sharp sword from your side;
you must accompany me in the dance of death.

Och wat schal ik arme........en
wente nymant...........
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Oh, what shall I poor............
when nobody.........
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