All too soon the flowers wither.
All too soon the day is done.
Hours spent in selfish squander
Are often rued when twilight’s won.

Let us all be filled with gladness.
Celebrate each breath of air!
What we leave when we have passed here
Should show signs of joy and care.

Cold the wind blows come the Winter
Too late then to stay the plan
Carpe diem; make it count, friends.
La joie de vivre is a Man.

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