The blossom that opens in the morning
is scattered by the evening breeze,
and the dew, condensed in hours of darkness
before dawn, is dispelled by the rays of the morning sun.

Heedless or willfully ignorant of this
procession of changes, we dream of prosperity
all through life and, without understanding
the nature of transience, hope for longevity.

All the while, across the face of the earth
moves the restless wind of impermanence,
dissolving all that it touches.