While granddaughter running after butterflies, my grandfather decided to work, but ...
Verse in the subject.
Here is a poem sent me a friend of mine (the author unfortunately not known)
One death was the sage.
It was not good and not evil:
- Well, that's all. Life came to an end.
Come on, Sage. I came for you.
Truth for having spent so much effort,
Could not afford to obtain immortality.
And yet, that -So you want to ask?
I'm good now. So be it!
In cases of death was - a great deal!
So it is necessary! Came to this folly.
Is death, tell me a fresh anecdote.
But only that it was ridiculous. Respecting!
- You, Sage, no fear at all?
I - Death yours! I'm here! I'm awake!
- Are you with wisdom, it seems, is at odds?
While laughing, until I live.
Instead of morality.
Maybe someone and they do not understand,
Mol what is this strange game ?!
Changing anecdote to anecdote,
Sage and Death laughed until morning.
As the sun rose in the sky,
And, turning pale, faded moon,
Embarrassed giggling under his breath,
Death quietly went home. One.