Classic Poem

After Solomon Ibn Gabirol
Awake.
Your youth is passing like smoke
In the morning you are vital
a lily swaying
but before the evening is over,
you will be nothing but dead grass

Why struggle over who in your family
may have come from Abraham?
It's a waste of breath
Whether you feed on herbs
or Bashan rams
you, wretched man,
are already on your way into the earth.