“Let it be forgotten as a flower is forgotten,
Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold.
Let it be forgotten forever and ever.
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.”
(S. Teasdale in Let it be forgotten)
Where can we find the crane that can lift the burden of this time?
“I looked back suddenly
into the empty room
and saw the lamp that I had lit
still shining on the little table by the window
and throwing its light on the tumbled sheets of paper
on which I had been writing.
And I felt as though long years ago a man,
whom I had know very little,
had lighted that lamp,
and sat by the window writing and believing that he was a poet,
and then he came out of the room and found the letter.
He would not go into the room again:
And not he, but I will go in softly
And put out the lamp,
And lay aside the useless paper.”
(Humberte Wolfe in The lamp in the empty room)