One little kitten with a ball of yarn
Romps and plays from night to dawn
One ball of yarn spun and furled with care
Is now the housekeeper’s nightmare
What might have made a mitten bright
Will now feed the fire at night.
Thus is it with human life
We make and play our games of strife
Worries are the tangles, hardships the knots
The fruit that greed and avarice begot
Ere the day breaks; realization takes sway
Your life is beyond redemption
Far, far away . . .