Oh death, your hand is terrifying.

1. O death, your hand is terrible; When you raise your sword in fear. ; Before you the king's scepter; It crumbles into dust like a beggar's staff. ; ; 2. You are cold as the wind of the bitter winter; Hard as the jaws of the rocks. ; You do not regard the tears of the orphans; You do not hear the cries of the widow. ; ; 3. When you spread your wings; Your hand is terrible when you raise it; Before you the power is suddenly before you; For fear sits on your mourning crown. ; ; 4. You are the one who on the Mount of Olives; Appearing before our Savior; At your very sight I was terrified; Sweating blood, he fell to the ground. ; ; 5. Alas, but with you he had mercy, ; For me then, that you would have mercy. ; Who am the sinful son of Adam, ; With my life I now pay homage to you. ; ; 6. My body, made of dust, is under your power, ; But with my soul, I know that you are not free, ; For I have offered it to my Jesus, ; By whom I was redeemed on the cross. ; ; 7. Therefore I go boldly to the deep grave, ; As my eternal, quiet abode. ; Weep not, for I am going there, ; Where I shall never suffer again. ; ; 8. My grieving relatives, weep not, ; That you will be separated from me forever. ; You will see me in heaven, ; When you will finish your life. ; ; 9. In the holy name of Jesus and Mary, ; I go to the grave in that holy faith, ; That I may receive the forgiveness of my sins, ; Jesus will open his kingdom to me.