This world
that was our home
for a brief spell
never brought us anything
but pain and grief;
its a shame that not one of our problems
was ever solved.
We depart
with a thousand regrets
in our hearts.

Lost are we, and are only so far punished,
That without hope we live on in desire.

And each day brings it's pretty dust,
Our soon-choked souls to fll
And we forget because we must,
And not because we will.

There are gains for all our losses,
There are balms for all our pain:
But when youth, the dream, departs,
It takes something from our hearts,
And it never comes again.

Today's today. Tomorrow, we may be
Ourselves gone down the drain of eternity.

Life's passed along to us empty. We have to make up the happiness part.

How strange is the lot of us mortals! Each of us is here for a brief sojourn; for what purpose he knows not, though he senses it. But without deeper reflection one knows from daily life that one exists for other people.

Each of us is here for a brief sojourn, for what purpose he knows not, though sometimes he thinks he feels it

Each life unfulfilled, you see;
It hangs still, patchy and scrappy:
We have not sighed deep, laughed free,
Starved, feasted, despaired, — been happy.

Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how.

And yet, my girl, we weep in vain,
In vain our fate in sighs deplore;
Remembrance only can remain,
But that, will make us weep the more.

We are in truth but pieces on this chess board of life,which in the end we leave,only to drop one by one into the grave of nothingness.

...[we] has left nothing durable to signalize his stay upon this planet.

[we]eventually dies to the honest regret of [our] associates.

Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes
Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth,
Let's choose executors and talk of wills