Life...
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Life is lost in dust.
Sorrows are never ending.
Flowers attain the
Briefest measure of beauty,
Before they wither,
And die in winter's brutal
Reckoning, like youth's
Flame which burns so brightly,
In its verdant age,
And then turns to cold ashes.
The wisest among
Us know this to be the case.
Everything changes.
Nothing precious ever lasts.
Taste fruits as they ripen.
Enjoy the gifts of the gods.
Best to seize each day,
And live moment by moment.
Bu şiiri puanla
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