The great Cohuahuatzin, where are they?
They are dead, and have left us no token,
Save their names, and the fame of their valor;
They are gone from this world to another.
I would that those living in friendship,
Whom the thread of strong love doth encircle,
Could see the sharp sword of the Death-god.
For, verily, pleasure is fleeting,
All sweetness must change in the future,
The good things of life are inconstant.