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In silently contemplating the transient nature of human existence, nothing is more fragile and fleeting in this world than the life of man.
Thus, we have not heard of human life lasting for a thousand years. Life swiftly passes, and who among men can maintain his form for even a hundred years?
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Whether I go before others, or whether others go before me, whether it be today, or whether it be tomorrow, who is to know? Those who leave before us are as countless as drops of dew.
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Though in the morning we may have radiant health, in the evening we may be white ashes.
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When the winds of impermanence blow, our eyes are closed forever, and when the last breath leaves us, our face loses it's color. Though loved ones gather and lament, everything is of no avail.
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The body is then sent into an open field and vanishes from this world with the smoke of cremation, leaving only white ashes.
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There is nothing more real than this truth in life.
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By so understanding the meaning of death, we shall come to fully appreciate the meaning of this life, which is unrepeatable, and this is to be treasured above all else.
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Death, it is written, is common to all things, for it is a part of life, inseparable, inextricable.
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Be you a wise man or a fool, a strong man or a weakling, it is unavoidable.
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Even if you to live a hundred years or more, it is inevitable, for it waits, patiently and unperturbed.
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And though death is inevitable, it is not a thing to be feared for it is a part of life.
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Death is because life is and each is bound to the other.
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