Bird of my soul, you never cease
One question fearfully to raise:
When, after all our riotous days,
Will there be rest, will there be peace?
I know we’ll scarce have made our way
To silent stillness ’neath the ground
When there’ll be yearnings newly found
To plague you every peaceful day.
And so you’ll leave our resting place.
In search of suffering you’ll go
And then impatiently you’ll glow—
The newest star in space.
Whoever has grown old and is attentive can observe how, despite the decline of powers and potentials, with every year right to the very end a life goes on expanding and increasing the endless network of relationships and connections, and how so long as memory remains alert, nothing of what passes and is past is ever lost.
From Weihnachtsgaben
(Christmas Gifts) 1956