Salmos 39

Salmos 39:5

Such, brothers, is our life, we whose existence is so transitory. Such is the game we play on earth: we do not exist, and we are born, and being born we are dissolved. We are a fleeting dream, an apparition without substance, the flight of a bird that passes, a ship that leaves no trace on the sea. We are dust, a vapor, the morning dew, a flower growing but a moment and withering in a moment. "A person's days are as grass: as the flower of the field, so shall he flourish." Beautifully has holy David meditated on our weakness … and he defines the days of a person as the measure of a span. — ON HIS BROTHER ST. CAESARIUS, ORATION 7:19