How fruitless laments the teacher,
Nothing filled but with vanities;
Unproductive says the preacher,
Benefits not humanities.
What benefit do people get,
What profits the man to labor;
It seems like man goes deep in debt,
Dies while owing his neighbor.
From all effort which we expend,
A generation comes and goes;
But earth remains through ages end,
Continues the same as time flows.
The sun rises and the sun sets,
As it scurries across the sky;
Allowing the darkness make threats,
As the moon starts to become nigh.
To the south the wind is blowing,
To the north it circles around;
Around to return by flowing,
As whispering trees make their sound.
All the streams flow into the sea,
But the sea has not become filled;
Down the mountains water flows free,
Because rain and snow has instilled.
Monotony is tiresome,
Full of labor not to utter;
By someone who is deaf and dumb,
As being dragged through the gutter.
The eye is never glad in seeing,
The ear is not pleased with hearing;
God sends a spiritual being,
Never is seen when appearing.
What exists now is what will be,
What has been done and will be done;
Nothing truly on earth you see,
No new things as under the sun.
No one remembers the events,
That are preparing to occur;
When changing history prevents,
Our memories as a blur.
Is there anything I can say?
About anything that looks new;
But was not made in our day,
Before our time to pursue.
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