Everything we think is but a trifle,
Everything we do is but a trifle.
In this world there's no dependable thing,
In vain man cares here about anything.
Esteem, beauty, power, money, greatness,
All this will pass away like the field grass.
We and our arrangements will be laughed at,
And, treated like puppets, tossed in a sack.
De Jan Kochanowski
Translated by Michael J. Mikoś
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