The Preacher opens his final chapter with an urgent command: remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come, before the years arrive when you will say there is no pleasure in them.
What follows is one of the most sustained and beautiful allegories in ancient literature, a poetic portrait of old age. Remember him before the sun and the moon and the stars are darkened, before the clouds return after the rain. In the day when the keepers of the house tremble (the hands), when the strong men bow (the legs), when the grinders cease because they are few (the teeth), when those looking out of the windows are darkened (the eyes), when the doors are shut in the streets and the sound of grinding is low, when he wakes at the voice of a bird and all the daughters of music are brought low. When one becomes afraid of heights and fears are in every path, when the almond tree blossoms white (the hair), when the grasshopper is a burden and desire fails, because man is going to his long home, and the mourners already go about the streets.
Remember him before the silver cord is loosed, or the golden bowl is broken, or the pitcher is broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. Then the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.
Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher. All is vanity.
Because the Preacher was wise, he continued to teach the people knowledge, weighing and arranging many proverbs with care. He sought to find words that were acceptable, and what was written was upright, words of truth. The words of the wise are like goads, and like nails firmly fixed, given by one shepherd. These are what hold and drive.
And further, my son, be warned: of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh.
The conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it is good or whether it is evil.
