Living
Epigram LVII
Translated by Paul Elmer More (1898) · From A Century of Indian Epigrams (1898)
Living
Our little wit is all to blame,
And separation's but a name;
Else would our sorrow day by day
Grow deeper. — Lo, how swift it slips away
For as a log at random tost
On the wide waves perchance is crost
Here by another drifting spar, —
So on this sea of life our meetings are.
Cite this poem
MLA
Bhartrihari. “Epigram LVII.” Translated by Paul Elmer More. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/bhartrihari/54/.
Chicago
Bhartrihari. “Epigram LVII.” Translated by Paul Elmer More. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/bhartrihari/54/.
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