I hear the clock striking, 
Away, profound mourning. 
Staidness is for the day, 
Eve and night to be gay.

We are fools in God's eyes, 
Though among men blameless, 
And the more we labor, 
The greater our error.

If one tried on this earth
To find out what takes place, 
This truth I likely think, 
Man is but God's plaything.

High places and stations 
Are mere deviations, 
Death treats us all the same, 
Power can't much reclaim.

Nothing is more piteous
Than a man covetous,
He reaps for another,
While suffering hunger.

And so if all youngsters
Were just like their fathers,
For years because of that
The world would turn to beg.

But God found the answer, 
What some put together, 
Others quickly squandered; 
The world should not be starved.

Hard to rule after death;
You, father, did not err,
The son just counts his gains,
Did not inherit brains.

So these groundless worries 
Are the devil's curses; 
When they leave our heads, 
Let them find Fokar's chests.

Bring us wine, let it flow,
And soon good cheer will grow,
Sorrow washed down with wine
Melts like snow in sunshine.

 Translated by Michal J. Mikos