TATITERA — Все мы смертны

In the depths of heaven — a cup invisible to the eye; It waits there ready for each of us. So, my friend, when your hour comes, Press your lips to its rim without a murmur.

No one is initiated into eternity’s riddles, No one has crossed the unseen barrier. Powerless the pupil, powerless the teacher too: Each of us was born of a mortal mother.

In one hand flowers, in the other — an unfailing cup, Feast with your beloved, forgetting the whole universe, Until death’s whirlwind suddenly tears from you, Like petals from a rose, the shirt of fleeting life.

Kings and rulers have turned to dust and ash, All who are hidden in the earth’s bottomless womb; Clearly they were given wine too strong, So they could not rise until Judgment Day.

I see a dim earth — a dwelling of sorrows, I see mortals hurrying toward their graves, I see glorious kings, moon-faced beauties, Who shone once and became the prey of worms.

My embryo was watered with the water of nonbeing, My gloomy spirit kindled with the fire of suffering; Like the wind I rush from end to end of the universe And with a handful of earth I’ll end life’s dream.

No one is initiated into eternity’s riddles, No one has crossed the unseen barrier. Powerless the pupil, powerless the teacher too: Each of us was born of a mortal mother.