In youth I studied for a little while;
Later I boasted of my mastery.
Yet this was all the lesson that I learned:
We come from dust, and with the wind are gone.
Of all the travelers on this endless road
No one returns to tell us where it leads,
There’s little in this world but greed and need;
Leave nothing here, for you will not return. . . .
Since no one can be certain of tomorrow,
It’s better not to fill the heart with care.
Drink wine by moonlight, darling, for the moon
Will shine long after this, and find us not.