Calcutta nr. 434
How much of inclination to avarice & ancient tradition
O friend, what does the iniquitous world do
We go away & travel & what ever comes goes away
Not one moment is according to your own desire
How long for greed, O friend, with worn-out body run,
Still measuring the world from rise to set of son?
All things that come and be alike depart and go,
No moment having brought content to anyone.