That which is wisest is to seek joy in our hearts in
a cup of wine; and not preoccupy ourselves too much
with the present or the past; and, finally, were it only
for an instant, to free from the shackles of reason that
soul which has been loaned us and which groans in its
prison.
The moment I shall fly from death, when, like the
dry leaves, the particles of my body shall detach themselves
from the centers of life, oh, then! with what joy
shall I pass across the universe, as through a sieve,
before the mason comes to sift my own dust.
That vault of heaven, under which we reel, we might,
in thought, liken to a lantern. The universe is the lantern.
The sun represents the light, and we, like the
images with which the lantern is ornamented, dwell there
in stupefaction.
Thou hast formed me of earth and of water, what can
I do? Whether I be wool or silk, it is Thou that hast
woven, and what can I do? The good that I do, the
evil that I am guilty of, were alike predestined by Thee;
what can I do?
O friend, come to me, and let us take no thought
of to-day nor to-morrow, but consider our short instant
of existence as spoils. To-morrow, when we shall have
abandoned this old tent [the world], we shall be the
companions of those who left it seven thousand years
ago!