The end will come but I cant tell
When. And how, please, I do not know.
My beginning is now
To teach, to preach, to treat, to sell
To bake or fry or cook the dough
Or go to farm and plough
So when from realms of divine trace
Our saviour comes to ask his pay
I shall get some to give.
Then he'll grant me eternal grace,
A life of paradise that day,
And all my sins forgive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem