Living
Epigram LXXVIII
Translated by Paul Elmer More (1898) · From A Century of Indian Epigrams (1898)
Living
All dearest things forsake us: — wealth is sped
To-day, or yet to-morrow love lies dead,
Or hope fades in a year.
Poor fools! what matter when they go or how?
Poor fools! that cling and will not leave them now,
Adding to loss a fear.
For if themselves they part what pangs they leave!
Nay, fling them forth, and the soul's peace receive,
Eternal now and here.
Cite this poem
MLA
Bhartrihari. “Epigram LXXVIII.” Translated by Paul Elmer More. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/bhartrihari/73/.
Chicago
Bhartrihari. “Epigram LXXVIII.” Translated by Paul Elmer More. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/bhartrihari/73/.
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