A woeful and miserable matter,nLife is and it near comes to end,nDeath’s angel soars around all,nAnd over the world calls out:n“VANITY! PERISHABLENESS!”nnAll on Earth who breath bear,nMust fall to the ground before his glaive,nAnd grief alone lives on,nTo carve upon the wide tomb:n“VANITY! PERISHEABLENESS!nVANITY! PERISHABLENESS!”nnWhen the same Earth one embraces sees,nThe bones of common man and king,nWhat tells less? What tells more?nA marble stone or a mound of mould?nVANITY! PERISHEABLENESS!nnThe strong one puts no solace in his power,nAnd the wise not in wisdom, still;nWhat is happiness and joy?nWorldly goods and the price of man?nVANITY! PERISHEABLENESS!nnBehold, the one whose world is cramped,nAnd the one who sets flesh to arm,nBoth shall they find room in the end,nBy the same mother’s cold bosom:nVANITY! PERISHEABLENESS!nVANITY! PERISHEABLENESS!nVANITY! PERISHEABLENESS!nVANITY! PERISHEABLENESS!n