44 An lo an behoul, tha deid man dïd cum oot, hïs hans an feet lapt wi strïps o linen, an a cloot roon hïs face. Jesus toul thaim, “Tak tha grave claes aff hïm, an let hïm gang.”
He bïd thaim on nae accoont tae tell oniebodie ocht aboot ït, an he toul thaim tae gie hir a bite tae ait.
Wi that, anither yin cum up an saed, ‘Luk, Loard, here's yer coin. A hae kep ït lapt up ïn a cloot.
Tha deid man sut up an stairtit tae taak, an Jesus gien hïm bak tae hïs mither.
Me an tha Faither ïs yin.”
“Tak tha stane awa,” qo he. “But Loard,” saed Mairtha, tha deid man's sïstèr, “bi noo ït wud stink ye oot, fer he's ïn thair thïs fower days.”
Whaniver he saed that, Jesus caad oot at tha tap o hïs voice, “Lazarus, cum on oot!”
Takkin Jesus's bodie, tha twa o thaim lapt ït ïn strïps o lïnen claith, thegither wi tha spices. Thïs wus tha rïtual tha Jews aye daen whan the' buriet fowk.
He stoopit doon an keekt ïn at tha linen claiths lyin thair, but he dïdnae gan ïnbye.
forbye tha buryin cloot that haed bin roon Jesus's heid. But tha cloot wus lapt up bi ïtsel, awa frae tha linen.
Fer jist laik tha Faither rises tha deid an gies thaim life, sae tha Sinn gies life tae whaiver he plaises.
Here's tha truith o ït: tha oor ïs cumin - ay, ït's cum noo! - whan tha deid wull hear tha voice o tha Sinn o God, an thaim that hears wull leeve.