O, LUCKY MAN!

By Yasen Vedrin

(Mortal Remains)

To the lucky I say: Be content,

But remember this Truth, so unseen!

Every spirit left traces and went,

So that hearts could be captured between.

A rich man will tell you: "I lived,

And my blessings were wonderful, bright!

No sin in my soul was perceived,

Nor a shadow of Horned One in sight..."

O, you vain and you weak advocate

Of the deeds that the Lord hates to find!

Satan’s hidden! He watches, in wait,

While temptations are piled up ahead, blind!

Only one who is warmed by the sun,

Casts a shadow when stopping the rays...

But the fool, by his self-greed undone,

Seems alive, yet he dies in his ways.

It’s not scary, when broken and down,

To be tortured by dramas so old.

"Ah, what happens when I am not around,

There, out there, when my body grows cold?

Which spirit will reach out a hand,

To reclaim a captured heart’s space?

Was I, God, by Your river and land?

Did I sow Your own Seed in its place?

Did You mark Your traces in me,

Or the dark one left his first sign?

Who reigns in my chest, to be free,

And won't leave this spirit of mine?"

O, lucky man! Look at the word!

Rarely spoken by spirit or mouth!

The most beautiful prestige inferred

Is to love Christ with all of your youth.

And accumulating dreams for His part,

With full Faith to lay down your own key,

Only then will he whisper with heart:

"In me, God, Your own traces You'll see!"