Villanelle on a Chinese Proverb

When the lips are gone the teeth grow cold,
They were born to be paired - only one will remain.
From the coign of an idiom our insights unfold.

As darkness draws in, who is there to hold?
Life after loss doesn't warrant the name;
When the lips are gone the teeth grow cold.

Flesh is the weaker, it yields and grows old.
Teeth persevere, yet it's they who feel pain;
From the coign of an idiom our insights unfold.

To secure more than life we must try (we are told),
to emblazon our names on the gravestones of fame -
When the lips are gone the teeth grow cold.

They treasure their relics, they entomb them in gold,
Shamans and shephards favour death for such gain -
From the coign of an idiom our insights unfold.

The rest of us live by what's told and retold:
Deprive man of language and he'll lose his domain.
When the lips are gone the teeth grow cold,
From the coign of our idioms all insights unfold.