Common people are only a whisper in the wind. Important people are only a delusion. When all of them are weighed on a scale, they amount to nothing. They are less than a whisper in the wind.
Who knows what may be good for mortals while they are alive, during the brief, pointless days they live? Mortals pass by like a shadow. Who will tell them about their future under the sun?
No one has the power to prevent the spirit of life from leaving. No one has control over the day of his own death. There is no way to avoid the war ⌞against death⌟. Wickedness will not save wicked people ⌞from dying⌟.