Present time makes an unfair issue,
At least from the experiences of Man;
A world busy with importing, merely taking and collecting,
Never quenched with its property,
Never satiated, on the conctrary; it only grows hungrier,
And it know not why or where this came from.
For those who have 100 coins, want 200,
And Man never counts what he loses in the meantime,
And I wish we would win, imitate that virtue,
For when we come across an act of kindness, we would wish to perform two more,
And all out of love, for the sake of Heaven,
And just as money blinds and dazzles us,
So will we follow God, with no hesitation.
If all the events of the past were drawn on paper,
What would be left for the future to tell?
And Man on the run after wealth and unjust gain,
What would he take after 120 years of age?
Only his soul, not even his breath,
And when his time comes, his wealth will go not with him.