God remembers that we are dust
As for people, their days are like grass
They flourish like a flower of the field
For the wind passes over it and it is gone
And its place knows it no more
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English
Rise and Decline of Culture
God remembers that we are dust
As for people, their days are like grass
They flourish like a flower of the field
For the wind passes over it and it is gone
And its place knows it no more