It’s evident, everyday one dies,
The man sees this with his eyes,
Yet, to live forever he desires,
Also seeks to enjoy for years.
A hungry rabbit in the wood
Runs out in search of its food,
But a vulture’s time is so good,
That it devours the rabbit as food.
If anyone knows, next minute
He would from this world quit,
With what interest he would act?
So, God kept the death a secret!
One is born one’s fame to earn,
Better, otherwise, one isn’t born.
The deeds done, good or bad,
Shape one’s next life, bright or sad.