When man believes that pelf is everything,
And goes after money with planning, wise,
From pauper soon, he rises to be king,
He lands up quickly, playing dice, in vice!
From big money, he can make bigger sums,
And forgets God and trusts in his own power;
Big ideas, his mind and heart welcomes;
For his new love, He builds a high tower!
Then money turns to be his master prime;
His virtues disappear without a trace;
For spiritual needs, he cannot find the time;
His moral values fall in rapid pace!
The heart of rich turns godless to the core;
The wrath of God shuts firmly heaven's door!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 24-07-12
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem