Life is of the toughts that do their will
Death is of the toughts with battled wills
The creator of death is come to steal of life's beings
His wills is done by the foolish
Who see not afar and know not of the awakening of all fools
They who knew not of the dividends of eternity
All things be can do all things willed
For the rewards of the harlot shall be sorrows eternal
For the works of deaths sake
Thou shall be the least in everyone's wishes in eternity
Begone from me o author of tears sorrows and pains
Begone I say to thee o worker of iniquity!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem