Death poem

For poems thematically focused on death, see Category:Poems about death.

The jisei, or death poem, of Kuroki Hiroshi, a Japanese sailor who died in a Kaiten suicide torpedo accident on 7 September 1944. It reads: "This brave man, so filled with love for his country that he finds it difficult to die, is calling out to his friends and about to die".

Death poem
Chinese name
Traditional Chinese	絕命詩
Simplified Chinese	绝命诗
Transcriptions Standard Mandarin Hanyu Pinyin juémìngshī
Vietnamese name
Vietnamese alphabet	thơ tuyệt mệnh
Hán-Nôm	詩絶命
Korean name
Hangul	절명시
Hanja	絕命詩
Transcriptions Revised Romanization jeolmyeongsi
Japanese name
Kanji	辞世
Kana	じせい
Transcriptions Romanization jisei

The death poem is a genre of poetry that developed in the literary traditions of the Sinosphere—most prominently in Japan as well as certain periods of Chinese history, Joseon Korea, and Vietnam. They tend to offer a reflection on death—both in general and concerning the imminent death of the author—that is often coupled with a meaningful observation on life. The practice of writing a death poem has its origins in Zen Buddhism. It is a concept or worldview derived from the Buddhist teaching of the three marks of existence (三法印, sanbōin), specifically that the material world is transient and impermanent (無常, mujō), that attachment to it causes suffering (苦, ku), and ultimately all reality is an emptiness or absence of self-nature (空, kū). These poems became associated with the literate, spiritual, and ruling segments of society, as they were customarily composed by a poet, warrior, nobleman, or Buddhist monk.

The writing of a poem at the time of one's death and reflecting on the nature of death in an impermanent, transitory world is unique to East Asian culture. It has close ties with Buddhism, and particularly the mystical Zen Buddhism (of Japan), Chan Buddhism (of China), Seon Buddhism (of Korea), and Thiền Buddhism (of Vietnam). From its inception, Buddhism has stressed the importance of death because awareness of death is what prompted the Buddha to perceive the ultimate futility of worldly concerns and pleasures. A death poem exemplifies the search for a new viewpoint, a new way of looking at life and things generally, or a version of enlightenment (satori in Japanese; wu in Chinese). According to comparative religion scholar Julia Ching, Japanese Buddhism "is so closely associated with the memory of the dead and the ancestral cult that the family shrines dedicated to the ancestors, and still occupying a place of honor in homes, are popularly called the Butsudan, literally 'the Buddhist altars'. It has been the custom in modern Japan to have Shinto weddings, but to turn to Buddhism in times of bereavement and for funeral services".

The writing of a death poem was limited to the society's literate class, ruling class, samurai, and monks. It was introduced to Western audiences during World War II when Japanese soldiers, emboldened by their culture's samurai legacy, would write poems before suicidal missions or battles.

Chinese death poems

Yuan Chonghuan

Memorial of Yuan Chonghuan, Dongcheng District, Beijing

Yuan Chonghuan (袁崇煥, 1584–1630) was a politician and military general who served under the Ming dynasty. He is best known for defending Liaodong from Jurchen invaders during the Later Jin invasion of the Ming. Yuan met his end when he was arrested and executed by lingchi ("slow slicing") on the order of the Chongzhen Emperor under false charges of treason, which were believed to have been planted against him by the Jurchens. Before his execution, he produced the following poem.

一生事業總成空
半世功名在夢中
死後不愁無勇將
忠魂依舊守遼東

A life's work totals to nothing
Half of my career seems to be in dreams
I do not worry about lacking brave warriors after my death
For my loyal spirit will continue to guard Liaodong

Xia Wanchun

Xia Wanchun (夏完淳, 1631–1647) was a Ming dynasty poet and soldier. He is famous for resisting the Manchu invaders and died aged 17. He wrote the poem before his death.

三年羈旅客
今日又南冠
無限山河淚
誰言天地寬
已知泉路近
欲別故鄉難
毅魄歸來日
靈旗空際看

I have been on the path of the war for three years
And now I became the prison of the war
Tears are everywhere in the mount and river
Who will say the heaven is wide
I know my death is close
And hard to farewell my homeland
On the day of my soul coming back
I hope I can see the Manchu troops is defeated

Zheng Ting

Zheng Ting (郑颋; died 621) was a politician in the end of the Sui dynasty. He was executed by Wang Shichong after trying to resign from his official position under Wang and become a Buddhist monk. He faced the execution without fear and wrote this death poem, which reflected his strong Buddhist belief.

幻生還幻滅
大幻莫過身
安心自有處
求人無有人

Illusion appears, illusion ceases
The biggest illusion among all is our body
Once a pacified heart finds its place
There's no such body to look for

Yang Jisheng

The death poem of Yang Jisheng, written by Li Dazhao

Yang Jisheng (楊繼盛; 1516 – 1555) was a Chinese court official of the Ming dynasty who held multiple posts during the reign of the Jiajing Emperor. He was executed because of his stand against political opponent Yan Song. The evening before his execution, Yang Jisheng wrote a poem which was preserved on monuments and in later accounts of his life. It reads:

鐵肩擔道義
辣手著文章
Bear righteousness and the way on a shoulder of iron,
Write with a peppery hand.

Wen Tianxiang

Wen Tianxiang (文天祥; 1236 – 1283) was a Chinese poet and politician in the last years of the Southern Song dynasty. He was executed by Kublai Khan for the uprisings against Yuan dynasty.

孔曰成仁
孟曰取義
惟其義盡
所以仁至
讀聖賢書
所學何事
而今而後
庻幾無愧

Confucius speaks of perfecting nobility
Mencius speaks of choosing duty
It is only by fulfilling duty to the upmost
That one obtains nobility
What does one learn
Studying the classics of the Sages
From this point on
I can perhaps be free from shame

Tan Sitong

Tan Sitong (譚嗣同; March 10, 1865 – September 28, 1898) was a well-known Chinese politician, thinker, and reformist in the late Qing dynasty (1644–1911). He was executed at the age of 33 when the Hundred Days' Reform failed in 1898. Tan Sitong was one of the six gentlemen of the Hundred Days' Reform, and occupies an important place in modern Chinese history.

望門投止思張儉
忍死須臾待杜根
我自橫刀向天笑
去留肝膽兩崑崙

Should I run and hide in my friend's home? On Zhang Jian muse I.
Till death I long for myr'ad Du Gen's to rise and loudly cry.
Let the sword fall on my neck, I am laughing at the sky –
I leave my Loyalty and Justice, twin-Kunluns, behind!

Japanese death poems

Style and technique

Print by Tsukioka Yoshitoshi depicting General Akashi Gidayu preparing for seppuku after losing a battle for his master in 1582. His death poem is visible in the upper right corner.

The poem's structure can be in one of many forms, including the two traditional forms in Japanese literature: kanshi or waka. Sometimes they are written in the three-line, seventeen-syllable haiku form, although the most common type of death poem (called a jisei 辞世) is in the waka form called the tanka (also called a jisei-ei 辞世詠) which consists of five lines totaling 31 syllables (5-7-5-7-7)—a form that constitutes over half of surviving death poems (Ogiu, 317–318).

Poetry has long been a core part of Japanese tradition. Death poems are typically graceful, natural, and emotionally neutral, in accordance with the teachings of Buddhism and Shinto. Excepting the earliest works of this tradition, it has been considered inappropriate to mention death explicitly; rather, metaphorical references such as sunsets, autumn or falling cherry blossom suggest the transience of life.

It was an ancient custom in Japan for literate persons to compose a jisei on their deathbed. One of the earliest was recited by Prince Ōtsu, executed in 686. More examples of jisei are those of the famous haiku poet Bashō, the Japanese Buddhist monk Ryōkan, Edo Castle builder Ōta Dōkan, the monk Gesshū Sōko, and the woodblock master Tsukioka Yoshitoshi. The custom has continued into modern Japan. Some people left their death poems in multiple forms: Prince Ōtsu made both waka and kanshi, and Sen no Rikyū made both kanshi and kyōka.

来時は空手、去時は赤脚。一去一来、単重交折

Raiji wa karate kyoji wa sekkyaku ikkyoichirai tanjuu sekkou

Empty-handed I entered the world
Barefoot I leave it.
My coming, my going —
Two simple happenings
That got entangled.

— Zen monk Kozan Ichikyo (1283–1360)

Fujiwara no Teishi, the first empress of Emperor Ichijo, was also known as a poet. Before her death in childbirth in 1001, she wrote three waka to express her sorrow and love to her servant, Sei Shōnagon, and the emperor. Teishi said that she would be entombed, rather than be cremated, so that she wrote that she will not become dust or cloud. The first one was selected into the poem collection Ogura Hyakunin Isshu.

Cherry blossoms at the Tokyo Imperial Palace

夜もすがら 契りし事を 忘れずは　こひむ涙の 色ぞゆかしき
知る人も なき别れ路に 今はとて 心ぼそくも 急ぎたつかな
烟とも 雲ともならぬ 身なれども 草葉の露を それとながめよ

yo mosu gara / chigirishi koto o / wasurezu wa/ kohimu namida no/ irozo yukashiki
shiru hito mo/naki wakare chi ni / ima wa tote / kokoro bosoku mo / isogi tasu kana
kemuri tomo / kumo tomo naranu / mi nare domo / kusaba no tsuyu wo / sore to nagame yo

If you remember the promises between us,
When you think of me after my death.
What is the color of your tears? I really want to know.
I will have a lonely trip by myself, and farewell to you.
We will be parted with reluctance and sorrow.
And I will be on the path in a hurry.
Because I will become neither dust nor cloud
My body is just there.
But look at the dew on the leaves and grass,
Just think that is my incarnation.

On March 17, 1945, General Tadamichi Kuribayashi, the Japanese commander-in chief during the Battle of Iwo Jima, sent a final letter to Imperial Headquarters. In the message, General Kuribayashi apologized for failing to successfully defend Iwo Jima against the overwhelming forces of the United States military. At the same time, however, he expressed great pride in the heroism of his men, who, starving and thirsty, had been reduced to fighting with rifle butts and fists. He closed the message with three traditional death poems in waka form.

国の為 重き努を 果し得で 矢弾尽き果て 散るぞ悲しき
仇討たで 野辺には朽ちじ 吾は又 七度生れて 矛を執らむぞ
醜草の 島に蔓る 其の時の 皇国の行手 一途に思ふ

Kuni no tame / omoki tsutome o / hatashi ede / yadama tsukihate / chiruzo kanashiki
Ada utade / nobe niwa kuchiji / warewa mata / shichido umarete / hoko o toranzo
Shikokusa no / shima ni habikoru / sono toki no / Mikuni no yukute / ichizu ni omou

Unable to complete this heavy task for our country
Arrows and bullets all spent, so sad we fall.
But unless I smite the enemy,
My body cannot rot in the field.
Yet, I shall be born again seven times
And grasp the sword in my hand.
When ugly weeds cover this island,
My sole thought shall be [the future of] the Imperial Land.

In 1970, writer Yukio Mishima and his disciple Masakatsu Morita composed death poems before their attempted coup at the Ichigaya garrison in Tokyo, where they committed seppuku. Mishima wrote:

散るをいとふ
世にも人にも
さきがけて
散るこそ花と
吹く小夜嵐

Chiru o itofu
Yo ni mo hito ni mo
Sakigakete
Chiru koso hana to
Fuku sayoarashi

A small night storm blows
Saying 'falling is the essence of a flower'
Preceding those who hesitate

Although he did not compose any formal death poem on his deathbed, the last poem written by Bashō (1644–1694), recorded by his disciple Takarai Kikaku during his final illness, is generally accepted as his poem of farewell:

旅に病んで
夢は枯れ野を
かけめぐる

Tabi ni yande
yume wa kareno o
kakemeguru

Falling ill on a journey
my dreams go wandering
over withered fields

Despite the seriousness of the subject matter, some Japanese poets have employed levity or irony in their final compositions. The Zen monk Tokō (杜口; 1710–1795) commented on the pretentiousness of some jisei in his own death poem:

辞世とは
即ちまよひ
たゞ死なん

Jisei to wa
sunawachi mayoi
tada shinan

Death poems
are mere delusion –
death is death.

This poem by Moriya Sen'an (d. 1838) showed an expectation of an entertaining afterlife:

我死なば
酒屋の瓶の
下にいけよ
もしや雫の
もりやせんなん

Ware shinaba
sakaya no kame no
shita ni ikeyo
moshi ya shizuku no
mori ya sen nan

Bury me when I die
beneath a wine barrel
in a tavern.
With luck
the cask will leak.

The final line, "hopefully the cask will leak" (mori ya sen nan), is a play on the poet's name, Moriya Sen'an.

Written over a large calligraphic character 死 shi, meaning Death, the Japanese Zen master Hakuin Ekaku (白隠 慧鶴; 1685–1768) wrote as his jisei:

若い衆や死ぬがいやなら今死にやれ
一たび死ねばもう死なぬぞや

Wakaishu ya
shinu ga iya nara
ima shiniyare
hito-tabi shineba
mō shinanu zo ya

Oh young folk –
if you fear death,
die now!
Having died once
you won't die again.

Korean death poems

Besides Korean Buddhist monks, Confucian scholars called seonbis sometimes wrote death poems (절명시 jeol myeong si). However, better-known examples are those written or recited by famous historical figures facing death when they were executed for loyalty to their former king or due to insidious plot. They are therefore impromptu verses, often declaring their loyalty or steadfastness. The following are some examples that are still learned by school children in Korea as models of loyalty. These examples are written in Korean sijo (three lines of 3-4-3-4 or its variation) or in Hanja five-syllable format (5-5-5-5 for a total of 20 syllables) of ancient Chinese poetry (五言詩).

Yi Gae

Yi Gae (이개; 1417–1456) was one of "six martyred ministers" who were executed for conspiring to assassinate King Sejo, who usurped the throne from his nephew Danjong. Sejo offered to pardon six ministers including Yi Gae and Seong Sam-mun if they would repent their crime and accept his legitimacy, but Yi Gae and all others refused. He recited the following poem in his cell before execution on June 8, 1456. In the following sijo, "Lord" (임 im) actually should read someone beloved or cherished, meaning King Danjong in this instance.

방(房) 안에 혓는 촉(燭) 불 눌과 이별(離別)하엿관대
것츠로 눈믈 디고 속 타는 쥴 모르는고.
뎌 촉(燭) 불 날과 갓트여 속 타는 쥴 모로도다.

Oh, candlelight shining the room, with whom did you part?
You shed tears without and burn within, yet no one notices.
We part with our Lord on a long journey and burn like thee.

Seong Sam-mun

Like Yi Gae, Seong Sam-mun (성삼문, 1418–1456) was one of "six martyred ministers", and was the leader of the conspiracy to assassinate Sejo. He refused the offer of pardon and denied Sejo's legitimacy. He recited the following sijo in prison and the second one (five-syllable poem) on his way to the place of execution, where his limbs were tied to oxen and torn apart.

이 몸이 죽어 가서 무어시 될고 하니,
봉래산(蓬萊山) 제일봉(第一峯)에 낙락장송(落落長松) 되야 이셔,
백설(白雪)이 만건곤(滿乾坤)할 제 독야청청(獨也靑靑) 하리라.

What shall I become when this body is dead and gone?
A tall, thick pine tree on the highest peak of Bongraesan,
Evergreen alone when white snow covers the whole world.

擊鼓催人命 (격고최인명) -둥둥 북소리는 내 생명을 재촉하고,
回頭日欲斜 (회두일욕사) -머리를 돌여 보니 해는 서산으로 넘어 가려고 하는구나
黃泉無客店 (황천무객점) -황천으로 가는 길에는 주막조차 없다는데,
今夜宿誰家 (금야숙수가) -오늘밤은 뉘 집에서 잠을 자고 갈거나

As the sound of drum calls for my life,
I turn my head where sun is about to set.
There is no inn on the way to underworld.
At whose house shall I sleep tonight?

Jo Gwang-jo

Jo Gwang-jo (조광조; 1482–1519) was a neo-Confucian reformer who was framed by the conservative faction opposing his reforms in the Third Literati Purge of 1519. His political enemies slandered Jo to be disloyal by writing "Jo will become the king" (주초위왕 走肖爲王, ju cho wi wang) with honey on leaves so that caterpillars left behind the same phrase as if in supernatural manifestation. King Jungjong ordered his death by sending poison and abandoned Jo's reform measures. Jo, who had believed to the end that Jungjong would see his errors, wrote the following before drinking poison on December 20, 1519. Repetition of similar looking words is used to emphasize strong conviction in this five-syllable poem.

愛君如愛父 (애군여애부) -임금 사랑하기를 아버지 사랑하듯 하였고
憂國如憂家 (우국여우가) -나라 걱정하기를 집안 근심처럼 하였다
白日臨下土 (백일임하토) -밝은 해 아래 세상을 굽어보사
昭昭照丹衷 (소소조단충) -내 단심과 충정 밝디 밝게 비춰주소서

Loved my sovereign as own father
Worried over country as own house
The bright sun looking down upon earth
Shines ever so brightly on my red heart.

Chŏng Mong-ju

Chŏng Mong-ju (정몽주; 1337–1392) was an influential high minister of the Goryeo dynasty when Yi Sŏng-gye sought to overthrow it and establish a new dynasty. When Yi Pang-wŏn, the son of Yi Sŏng-gye, asked Chŏng to support the founding of a new dynasty through a poem, Chŏng answered with a poem of his own reaffirming his loyalty to the falling Goryeo dynasty. Just as he suspected, he was assassinated the same night on April 4, 1392. Chŏng's death poem is the most famous in Korean history.

此身死了死了一百番更死了 (차신사료사료일백번갱사료) -이몸이 죽고 죽어 일백 번 고쳐 죽어
白骨爲塵土魂魄有也無 (백골위진토혼백유무야) -백골이 진토되어 넋이라도 있고 없고
向主一片丹心寧有改理也歟 (향주일편단심유개리여) -임 향한 일편 단심이야 가실 줄이 있으랴.

Should this body die and die again a hundred times over,
White bones turning to dust, with or without trace of soul,
My steadfast heart toward Lord, could it ever fade away?

Vietnamese death poems

In Vietnam, death poems are referred to as thơ tuyệt mệnh (chữ Hán: 詩絶命). These poems were commonly written in the Thất ngôn tứ tuyệt (七言四絶) form following Tang dynasty poetic form. This genre of poems were especially significant during the French conquest of Vietnam.

Hồ Huân Nghiệp

Hồ Huân Nghiệp (胡勳業; 1829–1864) was an influential scholar during the Nguyễn dynasty. He was also well-known for being one of the first to fight against the French. The French eventually captured him in Gia Định (嘉定; present-day Ho Chi Minh City). Before he was executed by the French, he washed his face, fixed his turban, and recited four verses of poetry before being beheaded.

見義寧甘不勇為，
全憑忠孝作男兒。
此身生死何修後，
惟戀高堂白髮時。

Kiến nghĩa ninh cam bất dũng vi,
Toàn bằng trung hiếu tác nam nhi.
Thử thân sinh tử hà tu hậu,
Duy luyến cao đường bạch phát thì.

Thấy nghĩa lòng đâu dám hững hờ
Làm trai trung hiếu quyết tôn thờ
Thân này sống chết khôn màng nhắc
Thương bấy mẹ già tóc bạc phơ

Seeing righteousness, how could one not bravely act?
Relying on loyalty and filial piety to be a true man.
Life and death, what does it matter after cultivating virtue?
Only longing for the time when parents’ hair turns white.

Lưu Thường

Lưu Thường (劉常; 1345-1388) was a Vietnamese official of the Trần dynasty. He is most notably remembered for his involvement in a failed plot to rescue Trần Phế Đế (陳廢帝). In 1388, Hồ Quý Ly (胡季犛), a powerful and ambitious official, manipulated the retired emperor, Trần Nghệ Tông (陳藝宗) into forcing Trần Phế Đế to commit suicide by hanging. Lưu Thường, along with Nguyễn Khoái (阮快) and Nguyễn Vân Nhi (阮雲兒), planned to save Trần Phế Đế, but their efforts were discovered, and all participants in the plot were executed. Before his death, Lưu Thường wrote a famous death poem that reflected his unwavering loyalty and sense of righteousness. His death poem is found in the eighth volume (卷之八) of Đại Việt sử ký toàn thư.

殘年四十有餘三，
忠義逢誅死正甘。
抱義生前應不負，
暴屍原上又何暫。

Tàn niên tứ thập hữu dư tam,
Trung nghĩa phùng tru tử chính cam.
Bão nghĩa sinh tiền ưng bất phụ,
Bộc thi nguyên thượng hựu hà tạm!

Bốn mươi ba tuổi thân tàn tạ,
Trung nghĩa, sa cơ chết cũng đành.
Giữ tiết bình sinh lòng chẳng phụ,
Phơi thây ngoài nội hẳn không kinh!

In my remaining years, more than forty-three,
Loyal and righteous, I gladly face death.
Upholding justice, I have no regrets in life,
What harm is there in my body lying exposed on the plains!

Nguyễn Sư Phó

Nguyễn Sư Phó (阮瑡傅; 1458-1519) was a Vietnamese court official of the Lê dynasty. He was well-known for installing Lê Bảng (黎榜) as the new emperor (Đại Đức; 大德) after a series of rebellions and unrest. Around March 1519, Trịnh Tuy (鄭綏) deposed Lê Bảng and installed Bảng's younger brother, Lê Do (黎槱), as emperor, changing the era name to Thiên Hiến (天憲). In July 1519, during a heavy rainstorm, Lê Chiêu Tông's general, Mạc Đăng Dung (莫登庸), led both naval and land forces to besiege Emperor Thiên Hiến at Từ Liêm. Nguyễn Sư Phó fled to Ninh Sơn but were captured by Lê Chiêu Tông's forces and taken prisoner. Before Nguyễn Sư Phó was executed, he wrote a death poem. His death poem is found in the fifteenth volume (卷之十五) of Đại Việt sử ký toàn thư.

本慾興周救萬民，
誰知天意不隨人。
烏江水闊難東渡，
赤壁風高易北焚。
雲暗寧山龍去遠，
月明福地鶴來頻。
英雄成敗古來有，
但恨平生志未伸。

Bản dục hưng Chu cứu vạn dân,
Thuỳ tri thiên ý bất tuỳ nhân.
Ô giang thuỷ khoát nan đông độ
Xích Bích phong cao dị bắc phần.
Vân ám Ninh Sơn long khứ viễn,
Nguyệt minh phúc địa hạc lai tần.
Anh hùng thành bại cổ lai hữu,
Đãn hận bình sinh chí vị thân.

Những toan phục nước cứu muôn dân
Trời chẳng chiều người cũng khó phần
Sông rộng, Giang Đông khôn trở gót
Gió to, Xích Bích dễ thiêu quân
Ninh Sơn mây ám rồng xa khuất
Phúc địa trăng soi hạc tới gần.
Anh hùng thành bại xưa nay vậy
Chí đời chưa thoả hận vô ngần

I wished to revive Zhou and save the people,
Who would have known that Heaven’s will does not follow man's desires?
The wide waters of Wu River are hard to cross eastward,
The high winds at Red Cliffs easily ignite the northern fires.
Dark clouds cover Ninh Mountain as the dragon flies far,
The bright moon shines on the blessed land where cranes come frequently.
Heroes have experienced both success and failure throughout history,
Yet I regret that my life's ambition has not been realized.

Nguyễn Trung Trực

Nguyễn Trung Trực (阮忠直; 1838-1868) was a Vietnamese fisherman who organized and led village militia forces which fought against French colonial forces in the Mekong Delta in southern Vietnam in the 1860s. After Nguyễn Trung Trực captured the French citadel in Rạch Giá, the French had took his mother hostage. The French ended up regaining control of the citadel and captured Nguyễn Trung Trực. Nguyễn Trung Trực was beheaded by the French at Rạch Giá on October 27, 1868. Nguyễn Trung Trực wrote a death poem shortly before his death.

書劍從戎自少年，
腰間膽氣有龍泉。
英雄若遇無容地，
抱恨深仇不戴天。

Thư kiếm tùng nhung tự thiếu niên,
Yêu gian đảm khí hữu Long Tuyền.
Anh hùng nhược ngộ vô dung địa,
Bão hận thâm cừu bất đới thiên.

Theo việc binh nhưng thuở trẻ trai,
Phong trần hăng hái tuốt gươm mài.
Anh hùng gặp phải hồi không đất,
Thù hận chang chang chẳng đội trời.

Since youth, with sword and book I went to war,
At my waist, the courage of Long Tuyền.
If a hero finds no place to stand,
He’ll bear hatred so deep, it can't coexist under heaven.

See also

• Elegy
• Epitaph
• Graveyard Poets
• Lament
• Last words
• Mi último adiós
• Ryōkan
• Suicide note
• Xie Lingyun
• Yuan Chonghuan
• Chinese Chán
• Japanese Zen
• Mono no aware
• Wabi-sabi
• Memento mori
• Swan song

Further reading

• Blackman, Sushila (1997). Graceful Exits: How Great Beings Die: Death Stories of Tibetan, Hindu & Zen Masters. Weatherhill, Inc.: USA, New York, New York. ISBN 0-8348-0391-7
• Hoffmann, Yoel (1986). Japanese Death Poems: Written by Zen Monks and Haiku Poets on the Verge of Death. Charles E. Tuttle Company: USA, Rutland, Vermont. ISBN 0-8048-1505-4