But I tell you that there are not
The years, that I for empty hold,
The ways, without a goal set,
The messages that nothing had.
There’re not the worlds, I ever lost,
The gifts, I gave without good thoughts,
There’s not a love that’s a mistake,
That is deceived, that’s a heart’s ache –
Its everlasting clear light
All over glows in my heart.
And it is never late once more
To start all life in the new world –
Such, that in toilsome days of yore,
To cross not any moan or word.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olga_Bergholz
