In this world, hate never yet dispelled hate, only love dispels hate. This is the law, ancient and inexhaustible. You too shall pass away. Knowing this, how can you quarrel.

Of bones the city is made, Plastered with flesh and blood, Where decay and death are deposited, And pride, and ingratitude.

Many do not realize that We here must die. For those who realize this, quarrels end.

Just as a line drawn on water with a stick will quickly vanish and will not last long; even so is human life like a line drawn on water. It is short, limited, and brief; it is full of suffering, full of tribulation. This one should wisely understand, one should do good and live a pure life; for none who is born can escape death.

I shall live here in the rains, there in winter, elsewhere in summer, muses the fool, not aware of the nearness of death.

All too soon this body will lie on the ground, cast aside, deprived of consciousness, like a useless scrap of wood.