But we, like the leaves

But we, like the leaves
That come in the flower of Springtime
When they wax so quickly beneath the sunbeams,
Like them we enjoy the blossoms of youth
For a season but an ell long,
The Gods giving us knowledge
Neither of evil nor of good;
For here beside us stand the black Death-spirits,
The one with the End that is grievous Eld,
The other that which is Death;
And the harvest of youth is as quickly come.

(Mimnermus, a Greek poet, as quoted in Stobeeus’ Anthology)

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