Classic Poem

Now shine, now rain, and rain becomes shine:
That is the sky's way as well as men's.
My glory may well lead to my ruin;
Your escape from fame will bring you a name.
Flowers may open or fall, but spring doesn't care;
Clouds will come and go, but mountains do not argue.
I tell you, men of the world, you must remember
Nowhere will you find happiness all your life.