Great Works Are Vain

Great Works Are Vain

I made me great works
I builded me houses
I planted me vinyards
Large as many townses

I made me gardens and orchards
I planted trees in them
All kinds of fruit
Just for me and you

I made me pools of water
To water the wood
That bringeth forth the tees
I did all this, driven by my humanity

I got me servants and maidens
And had servants born in my house
Also I had great possesions of great cattle
Above all that in Jeurslalem were before me
Through all this I was blind; I simply did not see

I gathered me also
Silver and Gold and
The peculaire treasures of kings of the provinces:
I got me men and women singers
And the delights of sons of men
As musical instruments
And that of all sorts
Though I bought all these things, my wounds refused to mend

So I was great
And increased more than all before me
And also my wisdom remained
I do not know how to this day

And whoever my eyes desired
I kept myself not from them
I withheld not my heart from any joy
For my heart rejoiced in all my labor
This was my portian for my work
I did not know those moments could not be savored

For when I looked at all the works
My hand had wrought,
And on the labor that I had loavored to do,
Behold all was vanity and vexation of spirit
There was no profit under the sun
The thousands of words created,
Could not describe what I had done.