Sol 5.6

  1. If death comes after life,

    and after all are gathered comes dispersal;

  2. and after the abode that now contains us,

    another abode awaits us in the dust;

  3. and after beds of silk, bare rock

    is the pillow, while dust is the bed—

  4. how can there be delight in the sweetness of life

    when within our own selves lie admonitions?

  5. A person’s father dies before his eyes,

    and offspring and mothers follow him.

  6. The young man grows like a sapling whose

    branches and far-spreading roots have withered.

  7. Part of him has already died—by my life—

    so how can any part of him possess life?

  8. His molars have crumbled and bent,

    and the hairs upon his cheek have died.

Sol 5.6