Let us not worry
O hark, let us not think of the morrow
Cherish this moment, far from sorrow
Life is a temporal gift that we borrow
Whether dead for ages, or leave tomorrow.
In childhood we strove to go to school,
Our turn to teach, joyous as a rule
The end of the story is sad and cruel
From dust we came, and gone with winds cool.
Pursuing knowledge in childhood we rise
Until we become masterful and wise
But if we look through the disguise
We see the ties of worldly lies.