dy’t slipet al wat stomp
hjir komt dy iene man
hy mei syn bel hy puont
in sinne oan ferdwyn
dan floeie út har went
wiif widdo mem jongfaam
sy drage dy passant
har âldste libbens oan
ien leannet mei in glim
in oaren mei in trien
guon kinne him neat jaan
hy wegeret gjinien
hy slipet sis ta sjong
hy slipet is ta bin
dyn tomme snijst omtrint
sa goed slipet er min
en bin’ har libbens skerp
dan tutet er de wrâld
en swingt syn tsjil wer oer
it skouder en set ôf
mar hearren bliuw’ wy him
is no ús sinne gien
hy mei syn bel hy puont
in moanne oan ferskyn
who sharpens every dull
here comes the only man
reminding with his bell
to disappear a sun
and out of houses pour
maids mothers widows wives
bringing this visitor
their very oldest lives
one pays him with a smile
another with a tear
some cannot pay at all
he never seems to care
he sharpens is to am
he sharpens say to sing
you’d almost cut your thumb
so right he sharpens wrong
and when their lives are keen
he throws the world a kiss
and slings his wheel upon
his back and off he goes
but we can hear him still
if now our sun is gone
reminding with his bell
to reappear a moon
