Masters of Delay
cur tristis es?
A happy day, an auspicious beginning
cloaked do the Fates make their usual approach,
Destiny walks unarmed and carefree
and Beauty bathes with a lover or alone.
The heart may be singing joyful songs to please the soul,
but one’s spirit knows beforehand,
there is no way one’s end can be foretold,
the last circumstances are the most unforeseen of all.
Even what’s best could not be as good
as the art to postpone therefore,
neither the fluttering cut of Atropos,
nor being senselessly reborn deserve their toll.