To Grieve or Not to Grieve!?

I saw the two of them questioning one another — a shepherdess and a shepherd — about pain and joy.

The shepherdess said:

This mirage appears and delights .. then .. vanishes
This day breaks and gives light .. then .. darkens
This sea billows and dazzles .. then .. swells
This stream flows and refreshes .. then .. runs dry
These roses bloom and enchant .. then .. wither
This universe creates and gives hope .. then .. brings death. Is that not cause for grief?

This life bestows and gladdens .. then .. plunders
This happiness dawns and bewitches .. then .. brings pain
This bounty lavishes and overflows .. then .. stints
This feeling springs forth and gives .. then .. takes
This love appears and kindles .. then .. brings tears
This world grants and builds .. then .. destroys. Is that not cause for grief?

Does it not pain, that the sea carries this caravan away
while dawn has bidden the day farewell till tomorrow?!
Do not the blossoms weep, fallen from their stem,
while the lily has vanished from life?
Does it not pain — happiness robbed from the one rich in it,
and misery draped upon the one who seeks it?!
Think, and wonder with me .. is all this not cause for grief?

And the shepherd answered her:

My sister, what is there to grieve over?
This mirage that vanishes?
Tomorrow, from the heart of the desert, it returns...
This day that darkens?
In the blackness the stars tremble...
This sea that swells?
In its fury the fish dance...
These roses that wither?
In the rose's sanctuary the birds sleep...
This universe that brings death?
Whence, were it not for death, this existence?

My sister, tell me, what is there to grieve over?
This life that plunders?
Did it ever pledge to preserve its gift?
Or this happiness that pains?
And pain is the soul's beacon toward healing...
Or this bounty that stints?
Scarcity and abundance are the law of existence.
Or this feeling that takes?
And it returns to the mind as light upon light..
Or this love that brings tears?
And in tears are the kisses of God.
Or this world that destroys?
Whence, were it not for demolition, this building?

My sister, what is painful in the sea's conveying of the caravan?
Tomorrow, upon its waves, it can come back..
And what is there to weep over in the falling of the flowers?
Upon their ruins the fruits are formed..

My sister! Whenever a flower dies, spring renews the flowers,
and whenever a drop evaporates, the sky pours forth springs.
So tell me: in all this, what is there to grieve over?