میان همه ی چیزهای قطعی،قطعی ترینشان تردید است - Bertolt Brecht

And when she was finished they laid her in earth
Flowers growing, butterflies juggling over her...
She, so light, barely pressed the earth down
How much pain it took to make her as light as that!

Oh why do we not say the important things, it would be so easy, and we are damned because we do not.

Here today we huddle tight
As the darkest heathens might
The snow falls chilly on our skin
The snow is forcing its way in.
Hush, snow, come in with us to dwell:
We were thrown out by Heaven as well.