Please tell me with a sad number.
Life is not a dream!
The soul is dead,
And things are not what they see.
Life is true! Life is serious!
And the grave is not its goal.
Dust art, return of dust,
It was not spoken of the soul.
It is not pleasure, not sorrow,
Is it the end of our destiny?
However, to act, each tomorrow
Please find us more than today.
Art is long, time is instantaneous,
And although our heart is bold and courageous,
Still, like a noisy drum, it is striking
The funeral marches to the grave.
In the battle of a wide field of the world,
With the violence of life,
Do not be like a foolish, moved cow!
Be a hero of fighting!
An incredible future, but fun!
Let the dead past bury the lost!
Act, - Current act of living!
The inner heart, the overhead of God!
All of the lives of the great people remind us
We can live a lively life,
And leave us to leave, leave
Sand footprints of time.
Footprints, it is probably another,
Sailing o'er the main solemn of life,
Desire and evil brothers,
To see is to take away your mind again.
So,
Don't mind my fate.
I have yet to achieve, but I am still pursuing,
Learning to work and wait.