When the marbles fall on the ground,
No one hears anything but a striking sound.
The sound of glass making a crash,
From the form of goodness to the form of trash.
Beauty was there till it was broken,
Good was good till the “bad” was soken.
Life is nothing but a momentary laugh,
The dead lies slumbering in the epitaph.
The truth was revealed years past ago,
That man emerges from land and there it sows.
So, simplicity and asceticism is the moral of the day,
Here the truth lies and here it lays.