Although long lives the tortoise wise,
In the end he cannot but die.
The dragon in the mist may rise
But in the dust he too shall lie.
Although the stabled steed is old,
He dreams to run a thousand li.
In life's December heroes bold
Indomitable still will be.
It is not up to Heaven alone
To lengthen or shorten our days.
Let's cultivate our minds and live on
Through long years, if we know the ways.
How happy I feel at this thought!
I croon this poem as I ought.