Our lives pass from us like the wind, and why Should wise men grieve to know that they must die? The Judas blossom fades, the lovely face Of light is dimmed, and darkness takes its place.
I turn to right and left, in all the earth I see no signs of justice, sense or worth: A man does evil deeds, and all his days Are filled with luck and universal praise; Another’s good in all he does – he dies A wretched, broken man whom all despise.
From moment then to moment their desire Gained strength, and wisdom fled before love’s fire; Passion engulfed them, and these lovers lay Entwined together till the break of day.
