Human life lay foul before men's eyes, crushed to the dust beneath religion's weight.
What once sprung from the earth sinks back into the earth.
The drops of rain make a hole in the stone not by violence but by oft falling.
From the midst of the very fountain of pleasure, something of bitterness arises to vex us in the flower of enjoyment.
From the heart of the fountain of delight rises a jet of bitterness that tortures us among the very flowers.
The fall of dropping water wears away the Stone.