A faith how much good it may be,
If not followed by good acts,
Is like a colorful flower without an essence.
A belief that God will forgive you in any case,
May bring good results in the life after death,
But this world is a sensitive balance.
It weighs you and your weight determines your mass,
It's your mass for that you are paid in the market,
Here punishments and rewards depend on your performance.
What did you perform having so many selfish instincts?
The Angels may ask other questions in your grave,
Here on earth the only question is about your coexistence,
How you faced your fellowmen with a pink smile?
If for them there was no love in your heart,
Was there inside a needing tolerance?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem