Дꙋшѐ моѧ̀, почто̀ грѣха́ми богатѣ́еши; почто̀ во́лю дїа́волю твори́ши; въ чесо́мъ наде́ждꙋ полага́еши; преста́ни ѿ си́хъ, и҆ ѡ҆брати́сѧ къ бг҃ꙋ съ пла́чемъ, зовꙋ́щи: млⷭ҇рде гдⷭ҇и, поми́лꙋй мѧ̀ грѣ́шнаго. Јкосъ: Помы́сли, дꙋшѐ моѧ̀, го́рькїй ча́съ сме́рти, и҆ стра́шный сꙋ́дъ творца̀ твоегѡ̀ и҆ бг҃а: а҆́гг҃ли бо гро́знїи по́ймꙋтъ тѧ̀, дꙋшѐ, и҆ въ вѣ́чный ѻ҆́гнь введꙋ́тъ: ѹ҆̀бо пре́жде сме́рти пока́йсѧ, вопїю́щи: гдⷭ҇и, поми́лꙋй мѧ̀ грѣ́шнаго.
O Soul, why dost thou enrich thyself with sins; why do you fulfill the will of the devil; in your flesh you place hope; cease from these and turn to God with tears, crying: O Merciful Lord, have mercy on me, the sinful one.
Jocob: Think, O my soul, what a bitter hour death is, and the fearful judgment of thy Creator and God: for the fierce angels will seize thee, Soul, and lead thee into the eternal fire; therefore before death repent, crying: O Merciful Lord, have mercy on me, the sinful one.