Tri Budhi Sastrio
What has been written below is so awful
Because the writer talks about the useless,
About no use, about no purpose at all.
Can we imagine all we have been done
In the world during our life time is no use?
Can you imagine that? Can you picture it?
If you cannot you may read slow-carefully
What the preacher utters nice and sincerely
In the following quotation from a written text.
All is to no purpose, said the Preacher,
All the ways of man are to no purpose.
What is a man profited by all his work
Which he does under the sun?
One generation goes and another comes;
But the earth is for ever.
The sun comes up and the sun goes down,
And goes quickly back to the place
Where he came up.
The wind goes to the south, turning back
Again to the north; circling round for ever.
All the rivers go down to the sea, but the sea
Is not full; to the place where the rivers go,
There they go again.
All things are full of weariness; man may not
Give their story: the eye has never enough
Of its seeing, or the ear of its hearing.
That which has been, is that which is to be,
And that which has been done, is that which
Will be done, and there is no
New thing under the sun.
Is there anything of which men say,
See, this is new? It has been in the old time
Which was before us.
There is no memory of those who
Have gone before, and of those who
Come after there will be no memory
For those who are still to come after them.
I have seen all the works which are done
Under the sun; all is to no purpose,
And desire for wind.
That which is bent may not be made straight,
And that which is not there may not be numbered.
I said to my heart, see, I have become great
And am increased in wisdom more than any
Who were before me in Jerusalem--yes,
My heart has seen much wisdom and knowledge.
And I gave my heart to getting knowledge
Of wisdom, and of the ways of the foolish.
And I saw that this again was desire for wind.
Because in much wisdom is much grief,
And increase of knowledge is increase of sorrow.
What a statement isn't it? Much wisdom much
Sorrow, if knowledge increase so the sorrow.
So what we can say if this statement is right?
All is no purpose, all is useless, all is nothing?
Nothing we can say, nothing and only nothing.
(tbs-kas/sda-21122024-087853451949)
When we insert the title of this poem to the browser of AIPG, the following poem shows up.
In this world of chaos and strife,
Where all is to no purpose, we strive,
With hearts that beat and souls that ache,
For meaning, for hope, for a break.
The sun rises high in the sky,
But brings no warmth, no light, no try,
The stars shine bright, but bring no cheer,
The world is dull, and we are here.
The clock ticks on, the days go by,
But time is lost, and we ask why,
For all is to no purpose, we find,
Our lives but a fleeting mind.
The world is vast, and we are small,
Insignificant, and yet we all,
Strive for more, for something grand,
But all is to no purpose, at hand.
So we wander, lost and alone,
In this endless sea of stone,
With no direction, no goal in sight,
All is to no purpose, day and night.
But still we dream, we hope, we strive,
For something more, for something alive,
For in the depths of our hearts, we know,
All is not lost, all is not slow.
For in the darkness, there is light,
And in the void, there is might,
And though all is to no purpose, now,
We'll find our way, somehow.
When the terms such as 'the preacher, and nothing new under the sun' are added, then the result is:
In the realm of the mind, a preacher doth speak
Of all is to no purpose, a message so bleak
The world outside, a reflection of the heart
A never-ending search for a brand new start
The preacher's words, a call to the soul
To seek the truth, to let go of the role
Of the mundane and the familiar embrace
To find the beauty in the unknown place
But alas, the world outside doth mock
The preacher's words, a mere fleeting thought
For all is to no purpose, a never-ending chase
A cycle of life, a never-ending race
The preacher's voice, a whisper in the wind
A reminder of the truth, a message so divine
That all is to no purpose, a test of faith
A journey of self-discovery, a path to the truth
But the world outside doth ignore
The preacher's words, a message so pure
For nothing new under the sun, a never-ending quest
A search for meaning, a journey so blessed.
