I look at people in this world—each one contends
For one’s self-gratification.
When one day comes and they untimely pass away,
What they possess is one strip of the firm land:
About four feet wide and twelve feet long; that’s it.
If you know the way how to manage getting out
Of your grave and come to argue with me
Of the self-gratification issue, we both will then
At the very least be put up on a memorial stele
In the tangerine grove of the immortal poets
And sage thinkers at all times and nations!
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