Whaniver he went ïntae hïs hoose, tha blin men cum ïn tae, an he axt thaim, “Dae yis believe A hae tha pooer fer tae dae whut ye'r wantin?” “Ay, Loard,” the' saed, “we dae.”
Phïlip, dae ye no believe that A be ïn tha Faither an tha Faither's ïn me? Tha wurds A'm taakin til yis ir no jist ma ain. Na, ït's tha Faither, leevin ïn me, wha's daein hïs wark.
But oniebodie that taks a drïnk o tha wattèr that A gie hïm wull niver hae a druith agane. Deed, ay, tha wattèr A gie hïm wull be a wattèr spoot, wallin up tae ayelastin life.”
A'm tellin ye tha truith, whaiver hears ma wurd an believes hïm that sent me haes ayelastin life; he wull no be condemned; he haes flïttit frae deith tae life.