Celia saw a rose which in the field
its self-indulgent pomp gaily displayed,
and with its scarlet lipstick and crimson rouge
its delicate visage joyfully bathed;
she said, "Go enjoy, not fearing Fate,
the brief course that your graceful youth obeys,
for the death that comes tomorrow can never
take from you what you have enjoyed today;
and although death approaches so rapidly
and your sweet-smelling life is on the wane,
don't rue your death, so fair and young foretold:
for your experience advises you
that you'll be fortunate to die while beautiful
and not to see the insult of being old."