"And though your grene youthe floure as yit, In crepeth age alwey, as stille as stoon, And deeth manaceth every age, and smit In ech estaat, for ther escapeth noon: And al so certein as we knowe echoon That we shul deye, as uncerteyn we alle Been of that day whan deeth shal on us falle."

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Added on April 10, 2026
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Poetry
Original Language: English

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:And through you are still in the flower of your young manhood, age creeps on steadily, as quiet as a stone, and death menaces every age and strikes in every rank, for no one escapes. As surely as we know that we will die, so we are uncertain of the day when death shall fall on us. (trans. R. M. Lumiansky)