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The bells of death now chime, their plangent sound spreads in the air
Darkness and woe inside, poured are silent tears of despair
Ephemereal is our life, cloaked in neverending pain
And we march for who died, we cry for who passed away

Thin is the line between life and death
Our whole existance is so frail
Walking we are by the edge of the ravine
One step away from eternal darkness

Existance cloaked in misery
Not a glimpse of light from above
Our life feeble and evanescent
Caducous all hopes for a land beyond

White and cold as ice in your casket you laid
The pure essence of pain distorted your face
Your mouth open wide since you exhaled your last breath
Drowning in mourn, I could just say farewell

Forsaken in decrepitude
Of you what will remain?
Only the bones
A grave and a grieving memory

"Eheu fugaces, Postume, Postume,
labuntur anni nec pietas moram
rugis et instanti senectae
adferet indomitaeque morti,
non, si trecenis quotquot eunt dies,
amice, places inlacrimabilem
Plutona tauris, qui ter amplum
Geryonen Tityonque tristi
compescit unda, scilicet omnibus
quicumque terrae munere vescimur
enaviganda, sive reges
sive inopes erimus coloni.
Frustra cruento Marte carebimus
fractisque rauci fluctibus Hadriae,
frustra per autumnos nocentem
corporibus metuemus Austrum:
visendus ater flumine languido
Cocytos errans et Danai genus
infame damnatusque longi
Sisyphus Aeolides laboris.
Linquenda tellus et domus et placens
uxor, neque harum quas colis arborum
te praeter invisas cupressos
ulla brevem dominum sequetur;
absumet heres Caecuba dignior
servata centum clavibus et mero
tinguet pavimentum superbo,
pontificum potiore cenis."

(Hoatius - Carmina, Book 2, Ode 14 "The Fleetingness of Time")

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