The wind beneath heaven, then soon wax
The flowers of the field, fain to be able.
But the stiff storm-wind, when it strongly blows
From out of the north-east, how soon it nips
The rose's beauty! By the northern blast
The spacious ocean is helpless spurned
Till strongly heaving it strikes the beach.
Alas, that in the world nothing wears
Firm and lasting long on this earth.
VII
Then did Wisdom follow her wont,
Glee-words chanted, changed song for speech,
Of tales of sooth sang yet another:
'Never on high hill had she ever heard
That any of men might make to stand
A roof-fast hall; nor need any hope
To have the wit to mingle wisdom,
To put it together with pride overweening.
Heard you ever that any of mortals
On hills of sand his house could establish
Firm to last him? Nor can any mortal
Build up wisdom, where the hill-side
Is spread with covetise. Quickly the rain
Is sucked by the sand; so do the great ones,
With their bottomless greed of goods and glory.
They drink to the dregs this dross so fleeting,
Yet the thirst of their craving is never cooled.
