(Look at the picture before ...)
We ourselves measure time,
When a sinner's shirt is tried on.
When deciding to be or not to be,
Without asking, to live or not to live.
When the grain of sand in the world is so huge,
Which will not be our eternal home,
We know our sins and are guided by fear.
The one that once will turn us into dust.
We think how this day is lived,
Left yesterday only a shadow.
We do not value a second of life ...
We are in a hurry to live, we are running.
And only when the sand ends,
When the time comes to the last.
Which is only a grain of sand among all,
To be in time to repent, having sin.
And suddenly thinking, but was or was not,
When you moderate your fervor,
And looking back, what is behind?
It's empty ... completely ahead.
Hourglass in one vessel,
And every grain of sand, like people,
What fill the void, crossover.
Perhaps repenting ...