The joy of the sun comes in the sky
The beauty of stars dances with the night.
So does a man’s glory come with time
The winter shall not elude its season
Neither the summer forget its realm
Yet the days of man are numbered.
A seed shall not sprout the day it is planted
A baby will not become an adult the day he is born
Surely, percept unto precept the line shall align
The cry of the suckling speaks of a mystery
In their breath, the fragility of the world is
unfolded
Still men pursue vanity.
The breeze of the grave is lonliness
The rhythms of a hasty man is poverty
And in their heart foolishness have been enthrone
chasing wind
Shall a fire burn without heat?
Shall a rain fall without cloud?
Shall a tree dance without the wind?
Gold becomes nothing without fire
Therefore, endure whatever comes your way
But always remember that,
No condition is permanent.
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