by Marcus Valerius Martialis
Tomorrow you will live, you always cry;
In what fair country does this morrow lie,
That 'tis so mighty long ere it arrive?
Beyond the Indies does this morrow live?
'Tis so far-fetched, this morrow, that I fear
'Twill be both very old and very dear.
"Tomorrow I will live," the fool does say;
Today itself's too late -- the wise lived yesterday.
-Translated by Abraham Cowley