The morning sun was smiling to me;
I remembered she did the same yesterday.
That was how yesterday had gone,
It flew away and can't come back.
Thoughts of my deeds struck me.
O! I was good yesterday.

As the days fly, men also fly.
It is days after days, and men after men;
As the day breaks, a new man is born,
Early morning is his childhood,
Afternoon is his youth
And the evening, his old age.
Little by little the day is going,
Going to her resting place,
And the man goes too.

As the D-days stick into the head,
Men of might also are of blessed memory.
What a great day, and what a great man.
Because the man made the day to be great,
The man and the day were indeed tied together.

Yesterday you made mention of tomorrow;
Today is the morrow you talked about.
Yesterday had gone away
And some men followed her.
But there is nothing to do in the grave
Where the men passed to.
Today is still at hand
And you can make it good
Before it develops wings,
And you too follow its way-
For we are like the days
That fade away
And never come to stay.

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