Loibere risen from the Boimen towards valley, the blot stan ir este.
Blomen to wisen daz sint vurtorben se al, beautiful Wasir gleste.
Twinget bande de Sus tariffs maniger root sal,
I’m not grieve the sere.
I Grife Nu sint the winder is so cold,
the economic nuwe vro geubet.

Heifet me sound a hundred tusent vroiden number,
whom the meien blossom bring kan.
Rose de vals to minr vrowen red ler because of I wil sing.
Twingt me de Kulde, ir al root smackes ger de sint gestrôwet to ir liberal.
I Wurbe ir hulde, but I bedrocht vroiden number.
Jesus de minning1iche vrowet me.