The Buddha said:
This existence of ours is as transient as autumn clouds
To watch the birth and death of beings is like looking at the movements of a dance.
A lifetime is like a flash of lightning in the sky,
Rushing by, like a torrent down a steep mountain.


What the caterpillar perceives as the end, to the butterfly is just the beginning.

Sunday, 3 October 2010

La Passacaglia della Vita


  1. Translation:

    Oh how wrong you are
    to think that the years
    will never end.
    We must die.

    Life is a dream,
    that seams so sweet,
    but joy is all too brief.
    We must die.
    Of no avail is medicine,
    of no use is quinine,
    we cannot be cured.
    We must die.

    Worthless are lamentations,
    threats, bravado
    produced by our courage.
    We must die.
    No learned doctrine
    can find the words
    to calm this boldness
    We must die.

    There is no means
    to untie this knot,
    it is useless to flee.
    We must die.
    It is the same for everyone,
    a wily man cannot
    shield himself from the blow,
    We must die.

    Cruel Death
    is unfaithful to all,
    and shames everyone.
    Die we must.
    And yet, o madness
    o ravings,
    it seems like lying to oneself.
    Die we must.

    We die singing,
    we die playing
    the cittern, the bagpipe, yet
    die we must.
    We die dancing,
    drinking, eating;
    with this carrion,
    die we must.

    Youths, children,
    and all men
    must end in dust.
    We must die.
    The healthy, the sick,
    the brave, the defenceless,
    must all make an end,
    We must die.
    And when you are least
    thinking of it, in your breast,
    all comes to an end,
    We must die.
    If you do not think of this,
    you have lost your senses,
    you are dead and you can say:
    We must die.