Judgment of the heart-original poetry

There are days when I'm warm and well,
While the poor have frosted clothes,
And I know that You feel what they feel, and from heaven
You look at me, you look at me -

Then I would tremble I would, on earth,
Let the poor heat me out of the house,
Have a round bread on the table
And remember a prayer with the Holy Word -

And time passes, too, the rich,
At the good meal I always warm up,
In frost and in hunger remains the poor,
And the Lord looks out of the heavenly mountain -

And death also comes, and in hell I will go,
And in heaven, he, the poor, gentle, will walk,
For love and torment are written on the cross,
And I read, but in vain reading -

And there I will ask for a drop of water,
but nobody, nothing, anywhere, will not give me,
And I will not put an eyelid on my eyelid
for the everlasting fire is in my heart -

There's no fire outside: it's my heart
She's all alone: what a heart you have
to stand in the heat, and in the great cold
the poor shall not have your own good deed?

In hell, judge your heart,
and I know from now on that we are called sin,
that we are going in the way of empty sins,
to the same common, reconciled, targeted ...

There are days when I'm warm and well,
While the poor have frosted clothes,
And I know that You feel what they feel, and from heaven
You look at me, you look at me ...