I feel the breathing of my time

I feel the breathing of my time,
I feel the breathing of the home nature.
A thousand dollars or a dime
Won’t take my soul in rapture.

What’s worthy then and what is wrong
In the corrupted world around?
Can I create my own song?
Just to be heard among the crowd?

What is deserved to love or hate?
Friends, money, family, estate?
Or may be nothing of the kind but faith
And player in the morning rathe.

Its words give me the power and calm,
The inner rest and secret hope.
The Bible acts like Holy charm
To make so inexhaustible my scope.

Forgive me, God, for being selfish, pride,
And often ready to accuse, to chide.
Sometimes it’s difficult to make a move.
Oh, dear Lord, please, helps me to improve.