Like the pain of a nation in the repayment of its national debt,
One must undergo the suffering of death,
The angels of death catch and carry one,
When the final moment of death arrives.
The powerful persons cannot buy it off with money,
With his powerful weapons the heroes of the world cannot conquer it,
Nor can the cleverest lady in the world outwit it by a seductive trick,
Even the most learned scholar cannot postpone it with his eloquence.
In death, the unlucky cannot appeal,
Nor can a brave man here display his valor,
For, only the truly awakened know the secret of death.
When all of the soul leaves the body,
One is crushed as if between two rocky mountains –
All sight and sensory perceptions become dim.
When the priests and pundits and their prayers become useless,
The trusted and much-relied-upon doctor yields to his despair.
Now none can successfully communicate with the dying man,
Like a lump of coal in chilly ashes,
One approaches to the brink of death,
Without any hope for a reenergized soul.
Alas! When dying, some still keep a track of time and date;
Others cry, shout and groan;
Some continue to be obsessed with worldly goods and possessions;
While others are haunted by the thoughts that
Their hard-earned wealth will be enjoyed by others that know
Nothing of their blood, sweat and tears incurred to acquire the fortune.
However great one’s passion and love for others,
He can but depart and journey on to the next life alone.
His cherished friends, family and consort,
These are all forevermore forgotten and obsolete thereafter.
Knowing thus, the faithful patron,
Asks himself “what can be retained?”
“Must one sit idly and let all chances for enlightenment pass by?”
Knowing that all must be left behind,
One quickly realizes that all worldly love, passions
And attachments must all be futile in the end.
When that final and critical moment comes,
Only true enlightenment
And the teaching concerning practiced/experienced truth helps.