A lifetime is an age,
And a breath a full life-span,
For philosophers who wander
In the heart of Man

A thousand dreams and visions
Seem a thousand years ago,
A lifetime in this age
Is but a footprint in the snow

The passing of a swallow-
The winging of a dove-
Are sand between the fingers
Of ever-changing love

On a clean page
The turning of a leaf
Is written for the future
To vainly strive beneath