This world might be but a passing illusion,
and we flickering light and shadow more fleeting;
yet we shape so much joy and sorrow and delight
from these quick years, and make, briefly, something
more and solid out of them: A life deeply lived
which we present to eternity, and if eternity
itself crumbles back to void, so what?
We lived, it was enough.
21.06.2024
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