This existence of ours is as transient as autumn clouds. To watch the birth and death of beings is like looking at the movements of a dance. A lifetime is a flash of lightning in the sky. Rushing by, like a torrent down a steep mountain.

The passage meditates on impermanence (anicca), a central Buddhist insight: all conditioned things arise and pass away. By likening life to autumn clouds, a dance, lightning, and a mountain torrent, it stresses both fragility and speed—existence is vivid yet ungraspable. The imagery also undercuts the intuition of a stable, enduring self: what we call a “lifetime” is a rapid sequence of changing events. In Buddhist practice, contemplating such transience is meant to loosen attachment and fear, encouraging equanimity and urgency in cultivating wisdom and compassion while conditions allow.