Trust To A Plank, Draw Precarious Breath,

For The Short-lived Bloom And Contracted Span Of Brief And Wretched Life Is Fast Fleeting Away! While We Are Drinking And Calling For Garlands, Ointments, And Women, Old Age Steals Swiftly On With Noiseless Step.

No Other Protection Is Wanting, Provided You Are Under The Guidance Of Prudence.

An Undying Hatred, And A Wound Never To Be Healed.

Some Men Make Fortunes, But Not To Enjoy Them For, Blinded By Avarice, They Live To Make Fortunes.

To Have Slaved So Many Years For Nothing!