O how quickly passes away the glory of the earth. [Lat., O quam cito transit gloria mundi.]

Oh, how swiftly the glory of the world passes away!

The combat deepens. On, ye brave, / Who rush to glory, or the grave! / Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave, / And charge with all thy chivalry!

Go where glory waits thee; But while fame elates thee, Oh! still remember me.

Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever.

Great tranquility of heart is his who cares for neither praise nor blame.