Nothing can be obtained by grasping at the wind
There is no escape from the dualism of life, vanity of vanities.
I am embittered towards humanity for its failures
Yet I possess all of these same shortcomings

There is grief in wisdom, there is sorrow in truth
Yet, the heart of the wise is in the house of mourning
And by sad countenance the heart is made stonger in time

So, I embrace this burden and weep for the fools that chase the wind