Everybody will shriek with pain
When you will be shrouded like a shrimp
The shouts will be shrill
When you will be brought to the shrine
you will hear the shuffle of their feet
When you will be shovelled
Regret will be useless
B'cause it will be time to harvest
Damned who played a lot
Blessed who worshipped a lot
So now bend our knees modestly
for forgiveness and sympathy
Our Lord, OUR MIGHTY
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem