SF (June 17 1942 / Troy New York)

’tis All A Chasing After Wind (Ecclesiastes 2)

All human toil seems meaningless;
The time we have is not endless;
Our labor’s fruits, we may not eat;
For long, we can’t sit in our seat!

Death comes to both fool and the wise;
All die, both virtuous and with vice;
All earthly feats just go to rot;
Every event is soon forgot!

Life seems futile to pauper, king
Joy cannot last from anything;
Akin the fool, the wise too die,
As both perish, forgotten lie!

Pleasures don’t last for long on earth
Wine inebriates not for long;
Our health or wealth, we leave behind;
Both great and small will have to die!

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