To-morrow , and to-morrow , and to-morrow ,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day ,
To the last syllable of recorded time ,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools ,
The way to dusty death out! out! brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow , a poor player ,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage ,
And then it is heard no more , It is a tale ,
Told by an idiot , full of sound and fury ,
Signifying nothing .
The poem in which William Shakespeare wrote about Macbeth , telling the world that life is but so meaningless . So empty . Not worth the effort we place .
Is it really that way ?
Do we treat life like it is nothing to us ? Do we take for granted the gift given to us by God ? Do we take it lightly ?
No.
We respect the living . We revere the dead . We understand the living . We know the dead . We want to live . And we do not want to die .
In this poem , life is like a candle . As easy as it is to be lighted , it is easy to be extinguished . As brief as it is , it is able to supply us light . As brief as our life might be , life SHOULD NOT be regarded as a candle . Why ? Because life is like a book . When life starts , the prologue starts . When death approaches , the epilogue emerges . And when we are finally dead , we are remembered , for good or for evil . Isn't that a book ? Once we have read the contents , we remember . We recall . Unlike a candle , in which once we use it , it is forgotten , a book is never truly forgotten . True , we do not recall the whole plot , but we do manage to conjure a image which somewhat allows us to reminisce upon the story which we read . That is life .
And that is why , as brief as life is , it is a book . Never a candle .
HD
