Each of the days burn, the season fades
We live, we learn, we grow, and we die
But the realms of life in the after world
Never see death, to never see suffering
However hard life we've had, it renews
Waiting for the final judgment, it heals
The maker knows a heart seeks peace
And they live untouched by sorrow in the islands of the blessed
along the shore of deep-swirling Ocean, happy heroes for whom
the grain-giving earth bears honey-sweet fruit flourishing thrice
a year, far from the deathless gods, and Cronos rules over them
Hesiod
