Time
.
Time
is the root of all this earth;
These
creatures, who from Time had birth,
Within
his bosom at the end shall sleep;
Time
hath nor enemy nor friend.
All
we in one long caravan
Are
journeying since the world began;
We
know not whither, but we know
Time
guideth at the front, and all must go.
Like
as the wind upon the field
Bows
every herb, and all must yield,
So
we beneath Time’s passing breath
Bow
each in turn,- why tears for birth or death?
.
Bhartrihari
(450 -510 CE)
Sanskrit Poet- King Ujjain - and Philosopher.
Translation: Paul Elmer More
https://archive.org/details/anthologyofworld0000vand/page/65/mode/1up?q=Bhartrihari
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