,, Nothing keeps its own appearance,

and Nature, the renewer of all things,

continually changes every form

into some other shape.

Nothing dies, but everything varies.

And nothing is stable

in the whole universe, everything

passes; all the forms are made

only to come and go.

Time itself glides on with

constant motion, ever as a flowing river.


Neither river nor the fleeting hour

can stop its constant course.
,,

 

Ovid, The Metamorphoses