The Spanish
have a story
Of how life came to be
They
say the Lord of Glory
First gave life to but three:
Before
Him stood the creatures
To each He gave a name
That
suited their own features
We still call them the same.
This
meeting mixed joy with tears,
For God said to the man,
“Your
life is but threescore years,
Make of them what you can.
It is
true you’ll have bad days,
But more will be the good;
I will
be watching always,
So live them, as you should.
Man liked
the word he received,
Save but the “60 years”,
More’d
be better he believed,
For all too soon death nears…
The Lord
then called the burro
And said, “Obey the man
Lest
you should come to sorrow
In this low weary land.
For thirty
years you’ll live here,
Some filled with good, some bad;
You’ll
know joy, but more so fear,
Some days happy… more sad.
“Oh!”
then the burro replied,
“If that’s my lot below
May
of ten be denied?
Then happily I’ll go.”
The man
watched the proceedings
And said, “Lord give to me
Those
ten years, oh, so fleeting…”
Said God, “Thus shall it be.”
To man
God gave those 10 years,
But still he wanted more;
He thought
not of added tears…
When God he thus implored!
Then
God said unto the dog,
“Dog, you’ll be man’s best friend.
Twenty
years here you shall log,
And then your life will end.
‘Tis
true, you’ll have some good years,
But more will be the bad;
Be prepared
for many tears…
The life you’ll live… how sad.”
“Oh,
my!” then the dog replied,
“If that’s my lot below
May
of ten be denied?
Then happily I’ll go”
The man
watched the proceedings
And said, “Lord give to me
Those
ten years, O so fleeting…”
Said God, “Thus shall it be.”
Thus,
six decades is man’s life
Properly called his own;
He knows
more good times than strife
Before these years are gone.
From
sixty to seventy
He lives a donkey’s life;
All
he lives past seventy
Is a lowly dog’s life.
Now,
friends, I really don’t know
If what they say is so;
We’ll
watch as onward we go
For what the years will show…
H. L. Gradowith
11-01-2001