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All English Sonnets

At all pretentions, one should look askance,
And falsehood poison, ivy – like avoid.
This life is, but an accidental chance,
And world is nothing but a nameless void.

These pains and pleasures pure illusions are,
All sight is sightless, viewless in all view
To all – perceiving eye, the twinkling star,
In sky so blue, thought twinkles, has no hue.

This life is short, so one must live it pure
By concentrating on the distant spot
Where all mirages merge. The verdure,
A movement lingers – them it lingers not.

But hurries in a flash as though unseen,
And nothing is will be, no nor has been.

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