We present this work in honor of the 325th anniversary of the poet’s death.

 

So the old year remains behind forever.
As the sun’s course divides, so it cuts off the times!
How old age drags us so quickly into the grave!
That means poorly lived the few moments,

In which much annoyance mixed with bad luck
And nothing but instability revealed itself!
That probably means badly used when the walking stick
Never gets out of our hands when we use cunning and snares

Stumbling in the night, where there is little light
And light, which is not always safe to follow.
For if the Most High does not want to show his own light,

That, when we lose our way, touches our minds and eyes,
Is all light a light that leads to damnation.
Oh, the time is too short! Oh, the journey is too difficult!