Psalms of the Brethren CCXXII: Sirimanda

Heavily falls the rain of guilt on fault
Concealed; less heavy where the fault lies bare.

By death the world is held enslaved; by age
And by decay ’tis shrouded and beset,
Pierced by the dart of craving evermore,
By itch of pestering desires assailed.

By death the world is held enslaved; by age
And by decay escorted, guarded sure,
Without a refuge, everlastingly
Struck as by thief with bludgeon and with sword.

Like forest fires behold them drawing nigh: —
Death and disease, decay, dread trinity,
Whom to confront no strength sufficeth, yea,
No swiftness aught avails to flee away.

Make thou the day not futile, not in vain,
Whether it be by little or by much.
For every day and night that thou dost waste,
By so much less thy life remains to live.

Whether thou walk or stand or sit or lie,
For thee the final day of life draws nigh;
No time hast thou to dally heedlessly.