There is a reason which dares not say her name
And a deep wound which will not mend
Only forgetting would sedate the pain
And forgetting would betray beginning and end.
In English the wound is called "I miss"
In German people say "ein Riß".
Each day I call to mind the same sweet
Star and grace strewn face,
Little of the frivolous place
Where banner Hope fell in hideous defeat.
Once I went to bed in joy and I woke in bliss.
The hope in one I called New Born Light did this.
And after doom's sudden claim what reduces pain?
And after such waste what gives hope again?
We who live on every day be heartfelt and strong
She would have wished that, each life short or long
Famous or obscure, we should not forget
The joy, the hands, the plenty and not let
Our lives be simply taken without giving
Lived or endured without living.
The pain is life-long
We can and must still be strong
We all, each and everyone returns
In ways we cannot know
But in lives which will show
We are inspired by those
Who caused such joy to grow
Those from whom we so much learned
Those for whom we so much yearned.
Every day I shall say
Be worthy of the given delight
And through night and day find ways
Worthy of the incurruptible sight
Of those who reflect loving and eternal Light.