Life and Death

Oh, Mother!
Life and death are bestowed in the same instance.
Just as the child breathes his first breath,
so does he breathe his last.
The first sickness eats away
until we are dust.
The young lover's words die upon his lips
just as they are uttered,
and the lilly upon his dear love's brow
withers as it blooms.

All our joys, our fears, ambitions, sympathies,
all men's feverish ardour brings,
what are they to us,
when we are taken cold into sleep?

So rises the sun with beams of gold, and across the sea,
golden beams fade and the same sun sets.
And yearly do the bluejays sing
and yearly do they, frozen, fall.

All that separates the vital child
with blushing cheeks full bloom,
from the wrinkled, white haired,
wind whittled crone...

The clocks, the chimes, the ticks and tocks
They echo through all the halls
Cheerful cuckoos cluck and mark
One more step towards the dark

A candle burning, a pin of light, we are
This flame will not last the night.
Yet still we cling to man's invention
Swept up as we are in time's flooding tide.