On the Turning of Time and the Passing of Empires

I heard that in Egypt, upon a certain prince, death launched its armies and overran his days. The beauty faded from his radiant face; like the sun turning pale, little was left of his day. The wise men gave him up as lost, for in medicine they found no cure for death. Every throne and kingdom comes to ruin, except the kingdom of the everlasting Commander. As the day of his life drew near its night, they heard him murmuring under his breath: 'In Egypt there was no one as honored as I, yet if this is all that remains, it was nothing at all.' 'I gathered the world but never enjoyed its fruit; I left it behind, helpless, and walked away.' Praiseworthy is the judgment of one who gives and enjoys, rather than hoarding the world only for himself. Strive for what will stay with you forever, for whatever you leave behind brings only regret and dread. On his life-draining deathbed the master lifts one hand short, the other long. In that moment he seems to signal to you with his hand, for terror has locked his tongue from speaking: 'Stretch out one hand in generosity and kindness; hold the other back from cruelty and greed.' Now, while you still have a hand, pluck out the thorn; when else could you raise your hand out of the shroud? Many a moon, Pleiades, and sun will shine while you never lift your head from the pillow of the grave.