Меня зовут Смерть [Menya zovut Smert'] [English translation]

And all thy painstaking digits,

And all thy glances at the clock.

Thou waitest for preapproved decisions and art set;

Of course, thou knowest every time,

Which way will tip over the scales in the end,

But is that all set?

It's all so great in print on paper,

It's a breeze just to follow words.

It is so simple to make sure thou'rt without sin.

However if thou wantst to enter,

How wilt thou meet those who took makeup off?

Greetings, for my name is Death.