Not the first time and not the last. When the spirit governs the body, Questions arise again: — Who am I? Where do I go?
It was gloomy and bright, Yet always ripened in my mind: When I sing glory to God, Then I myself am a glorious man.
And fate — it is not a lottery. It is the fruit of my service. Yet still I ask of it: — What trace do I leave in life?
The future — in twilight and mystery. Yet faith — my binocular, magnified a hundredfold. And again, again the questions: — What is my contribution to immortality?
When the soul leaves the body one day, Possessions will turn to naught: For you cannot take them to the grave, Once you cross the earthly line.
But the soul sings in ascent, And my spirit praises the Lord, And my two last mites I place in the treasury of Eternity.
And morning dews comfort the earth, And again the soul drinks nectar. And again eternal questions God's Spirit asks of me...
