The leaves are falling

How dazzling is the streaming light
through crimson leaves! My soul leaps.
Yet, still, despite my eyes’ delight,
the transcendental thinking creeps.

My thoughts from joy to sadness sway:
the sight of death, alas, aggrieves.
How bright are maple trees today!
The soil welcomes their leaves.

All things before You, Lord, deplete.
What am I? Smoke to the sky?
My days are falling to Your feet,
as leaves. They rustle, withered, dry…

Yes, as the leaves, in fire burned,
do disappear in the end,
the Heaven’s bliss, I haven’t earned, -
how wastefully my life is spent!

Like any human, I’m fragile.
The handful of my days are short.
If You all deeds of mine compile,
I wouldn’t stand in Heaven’s court.

Belonguing to a fallen race,
how can I Heaven’s glory reach?
Keep in Your hands my life by grace,
please, guide my steps, correct and teach.

Though I have caused sometimes grief,
don’t leave me in my wayward ways,
do not discard me as a leaf,
You can from death all mortals raise.

Don’t let me be from roads swept!
Just as some leaves can safe stay,
when in herbaria are kept,
keep me till Resurrection day.

11.11.2019 

Это стихотворение написано на основе моего русского варианта:
Опадает листва
http://www.stihi.ru/2019/11/09/794