I used to be a poet.My words were traded in marketplaces like pieces of gold.Merchants bought my verses for as much as they paid for saffron and Indian jade.Now I am old...drunk on wine and candle fumes.Alone in this barren room, I speak my psalms to the night air so as to entertain moths before they go off to die.I used to be a poet and my words were gold.

Meaning: The timing of death cannot be treated as an appointment people can count on controlling. The calendar image expresses uncertainty about life’s duration, encouraging awareness of limits without making a prediction about any individual or demanding constant urgency.

Meaning: Death is imagined as unable to hear objections, so a protest cannot make it negotiate. The saying expresses mortality’s finality rather than a judgment about how someone should feel about loss.

Meaning: Death is named as a certainty against which other expectations seem less secure. The saying invites perspective on finite life, but it gives no information about anyone’s timing or circumstances and should not dismiss fear, grief or the value of present care.

Meaning: Death is possible at any age, while old age makes the end of life impossible to ignore. The contrast is a reminder of mortality.