Life is beautiful and precious—
let us fully take it in.
Life is short and uncertain—
let it penetrate our hearts.
Life is fragile and fleeting,
yet we stumble on, half-awake.
No limit to greed and arrogance.
No limit to worries and fear.
We hoard what we cannot keep,
we clutch at shadows.
Every flower fades away.
Every leaf withers and falls.
Every breath we take is borrowed.
Every life returns to silence.
Don't be afraid of death.
Be afraid of not truly living.
Don't mourn the grave.
Mourn the unlived years.
Death is certain.
The time is uncertain.
What then, shall we do?
This question—
let it wake us.
This knowing—
let it free us.
Not how we escape our death,
but how we live our days.
Not when we close our eyes,
but how we open them now.
The answer was always simple:
Live. Really live.
While there is still time.
Death is certain, the time is uncertain, what to do?