One generation passes.

  Another stays behind.

  Such has it been since the men of ancient times.

  The gods of long ago rest in their temples, and yet the great and blessed likewise lie buried in their tombs.

  Yet those who built great mansions, their places are no more.

  What has become of them all?

  I have heard their words retold time and again, but where are their dwellings now?

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  Their walls are in ruins and their places are no more, like something that has never been.

  There is no return for them to explain their present state of being, to say how it is with them, only soft whispers to gentle our hearts until we make our journey to the place where they have gone.

  So follow your heart and your happiness.

  Conduct your affairs on Earth as your heart dictates, for that day of mourning will surely come for you, so spend your days joyfully and do not grow weary of living.

  No man takes his things with him, and none who goes can ever truly come back again.

  - Funeral Prayer of old Kahmatt