Human prosperity never rests but always craves more, till blown up with pride it totters and falls. From the opulent mansions pointed at by all passers-by none warns it away, none cries, 'Let no more riches enter!'.

Black smoke, the flickering sister of fire.

Bronze is the mirror of form, wine of the heart.

What good is it to live a life that brings pains?

When a man's willing and eager the god's join in.

Everyone is ready to speak ill of a stranger.

Making it a valid law to learn by suffering.