Laudator Temporis Acti

Petrarch (1304-1374), Rerum Familiarum Libri 8.7.19-20 (tr. Aldo S. Bernardo):

Where are our sweet friends now, where are their beloved faces, where are their soothing words, where is their mild and pleasant conversation? What thunderbolt destroyed all those things, what earthquake overturned them, what storm overcame them, what abyss absorbed them? We used to be a crowd, now we are almost alone. We must seek new friendships. But where or for what reason when the human species is almost extinct and the end, as I hope, is near? Why pretend, dear brother, for we are indeed alone.

ubi dulces nunc amici, ubi sunt amati vultus, ubi verba mulcentia, ubi mitis et iocunda conversatio? quod fulmen ista consumpsit, quis terre motus evertit, que tempestas demersit, que abyssus absorbuit? stipati eramus, prope iam soli sumus. nove amicitie contrahende sunt. unde autem sive ad quid, humano genere pene extincto, et proximo, ut auguror, rerum fine? sumus, frater, sumus — quid dissimulem? — vere soli.

I wouldn't translate auguror as I hope.