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Luke 7:39 - New Testament in Braid Scots 1904 (William Wye Smith)

39 But the Pharisee wha had bidden him, seein it, spak till his sel: “This ane, gin he war a prophet, wad hae taen tent wha and oʼ whatna sort this wumman is that touches him — that she is a bad ane.”

Faic an caibideil Dèan lethbhreac




Luke 7:39
25 Iomraidhean Croise  

“Sae the hinmaist sal be first, and the first hinmaist. For mony are bidden, but no aʼ acceptit.”


And aʼ the folk said, “This is Jesus the Prophet — frae Nazareth oʼ Galilee!”


“For frae within, frae ben iʼ the hearts oʼ men, ill designs come forth: lecherie, thefts, murders,


“And he switherʼt within his sel, sayin, ‘What maun I do? for I hae nae housin, whaur I may pit aʼ my craps.’


And baith the Writers and the Pharisees war yammerin at him, “This ane taks in ill‐leevin folk, and eats meat wiʼ them!”


“But the grieve said till his sel, ‘My lord taks awa my office frae me: what sal I do? I am‐na fit to delve; I wad be shamʼd to beg!


“And he wadna for a time. But eftir, he said to his sel, Thoʼ I naither revere God, nor care for man,


“Bring ye than forth frutes fit for repentance; and begin‐na to say wiʼ yersels, ‘We hae a faither, eʼen Abraʼm!’ For say I tʼye, that God coud raise up oʼ thae stanes bairns till Abraʼm!


And a gliff fell on them aʼ; and they magnifyʼt God, cryin, “A great prophet has raise up amang us!” and “God has visitit his folk!”


And see! a wumman oʼ the citie, wha was an ill‐dooer, whan she kent that he was sittin at meat iʼ the Phariseeʼs hoose, she gat her an alabaster cruse oʼ perfume,


And stauninʼ ahint him, at his feet, she begude to weet his feet wiʼ her tears; and wiped the tears aff wiʼ her hair; and was kissin his feet, and crystit them wiʼ the perfume.


And Jesus, answerin, says to him, “Simon, I hae a thing to say tʼye.” And he says, “Maister, say on!”


Quoʼ the wumman, “Sir, I jalouse ye maun be a Prophet!


And thar was an unco tulzie amang the folk anent him; for, quoʼ some, “Heʼs a gude man!” ithers said, “Na, heʼs but castin glamor ower the folk!”


Sae they caʼd back again the man that had been blinʼ, and quoʼ they to him, “Gie the praise to God! we aʼ ken that this man is no a gude man.”


Lean sinn:

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