A virtuos man dies
He has no fear
His life was interwoven with the belief in GOD,
Now only the paradise is waiting for him
However, his soul is all of a sudden
Torn out from his body by an awful frost,
An ungraspable horrid face
By a malicious look
Is crushing the belief of the saint to dust
The tacit, desperate question
Emanating from the soul growing slowly black
Is answered by the evil-smelling creature of the unreality:
�To err is human,
therefore the mankind lives in error,
You do not leave the life,
You are lead away from it�!�

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