"Here I shall dwell in the rain, here in winter and summer," thus the fool meditates, and does not think of his death.
Death comes and carries off that man, praised for his children and flocks, his mind distracted, as a flood carries off a sleeping village.
Sons are no help, nor a father, nor relations; there is no help from kinsfolk for one whom death has seized.
A wise and good man who knows the meaning of this, should quickly clear the way that leads to Nirvana.
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