Poem on the Day of Death
1.
O last day of my life, you strike me with grave terror,
My heart sorrows, my kidneys are released, my wounded internal organs tremble,
While my disturbed mind pictures to itself your appearance.
2.
Who indeed would (could) describe that sight which must be feared,,
When the soul is struggling to be released from the measured course of the sick flesh of life’s bonds approaching its exit (death)?
3.
Feeling passes away, the tongue is numb, the eyes roll,
The chest trembles, the husky throat of man pants,
The limbs are stunned, the face pales, the decent appearance of the body departs.
4.
Behold the opposite factions converging on the soul,
Here to the virtues of an angel, to there the crowd of demons.
They approach more closely, whom merit invites.
5.
At hand also are thought, words, courses, works,
And all these things are clustering before the eyes of the unwilling (sufferer);
There it holds out, here it turns around, he sees all things placed in person.
6.
The biting conscience itself twists its own thing,
It laments having flown away the time suitable for correcting.
Late repentance full of mourning lacks the fruit (benefit of repentance).
7.
Then the false sweetness of the flesh is turned into bitterness,
When everlasting punishment follows brief pleasure.
Now was believed to be great, is seen to be nothing.
8.
But what mind is raised up to the glory of the supreme light,
It rejects the dirt of the flesh, sunk in which it rolls along,
And is joyfully released just as from a prison bond.
9.
But having come out (of the body) the soul experiences a hard journey,
The soul which the enraged soldiers of dreadful disease attack
And they prepare different struggles for his different places.
10.
For here are those who excite the throat, there the ones who incite greed,
Elsewhere applauders (servile promoters) of anger, elsewhere promoters of arrogance;
The band of each vice prepares its troops.
11.
Now if a squadron withdraws, soon another rises up.
Every art of war is tried, every machine of fighting is tried,
In order that the soul does not escape in this way to the shame of the enemy.
12.
O how savage are the monsters of (these) beastly warriors!
Disgraceful, savage, fierce they breathe flames from their nostrils,
Their snakelike necks swell, they drip venom from their throats.
13.
They arm their troops experienced in battle with snakelike coils;
They attack (surround) those (souls) coming as if with spears of iron,
These whom they drag off, they handcuff with eternal fire.
14.
I beg, Christ, unconquerable king, you to save (come to the help of) wretched me
Under this last hour of fate, when I will go to meet death as has been ordered.
No jurisdiction over me should be given to the impious tyrant.
15.
May the prince of darkness fall, let the part of hell withdraw.
Shepherd, now bring back your redeemed sheep then to the father,
Where (I wish) I could enjoy you living in eternity.
Amen