How To Measure Your Life

We measure our lives by its years:
Seasons filled with joy, grief, or tears.
Our memories cloud in the end,
Life’s passing shade makes it unclear

Why we toiled and sweated in
Our work to be the man of men,
Or the beauty of the king’s ball.
I’ve heard, in breathing their last, men

Don’t grieve lost time at work at all.
Instead, the moments they recall—
With a tinge of grief and a pall—
Are those with their young when they’re small.