If only not to be deceived.
The earth will remain a little jug,
They poured in and poured out — I go into eternity.
I look back — a cross-stitch,
Now I brought happiness, now trouble again.

As they splash water, as they knead dough,
As they light bonfires and quench the fire,
The Angels have grown hungry, they want to eat,
Time to come out as bread from under God’s palms.

Struggle in the body — to be saved from death,
Trash did not serve long as wealth.
The little cross reminds that one must die,
So as to be born into a higher life.