Whatever feat great, man performs on earth,
However long a life he may yet live,
Someday, the thread of life is cut my death!
However wise, no excuse can he give.
The Reckoning-day tho’ far is very near!
No one escapes the Lord’s just punishment;
To evil souls remains Hell’s gruesome fear,
Where darkness pitch-black lights the firmament.
No earthling dare be clever with the Lord!
The Maker questions only to the point;
No evil-doers escape His just rod;
The righteous men with bliss, He will anoint.
Help me prepare my soul for Judgment-day
Render Thy Graces plenty, God I pray.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem