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When the burning rises,
High to heaven,
Scorched shall be the many,
By dreadful fire.

When then to all,
Both just and sinful,
Soul with body,
Seek the creator's doom,

There the 'blessed' shall be,
Inside their space of exile,
By their works encircled,
Through their own deeds

As the fire burns,
So, the sun kindles,
And itself with it,
After the flame,

Shall then be proved,
The souls of men,
Their vices burn,
Through fire's bare heat.

A death bed choose,
This weary human course,
Depart abject thence,
Into the grip of dust.

Damned for former deeds
Buried with clay,
Death's embrace,
Encircling they.

As though the phoenix
A life anew
Of light and of comforts
Our souls are redeemed

A life anew
Our souls redeemed

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