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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345142" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Nothing is Lost</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nothing is lost.<br>We are too sad to know that, or too blind;<br>Only in visited moments do we understand:<br>It is not that the dead return ---<br>They are about us always, though unguessed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This penciled Latin verse<br>You dying wrote me, ten years past and more,<br>Brings you as much alive to me as the self you wrote it for,<br>Dear father, as I read your words<br>With no word but Alas.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lines in a letter, lines in a face<br>Are the faithful currents of life: the boy has written<br>His parents across his forehead, and as we burn<br>Our bodies up each seven years,<br>His own past self has left no plainer trace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nothing dies.<br>The cells pass on their secrets, we betray them<br>Unknowingly: in a freckle, in the way<br>We walk, recall some ancestor,<br>And Adam in the color of our eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yes, on the face of the new born,<br>Before the soul has taken full possession,<br>There pass, as over a screen, in succession<br>The images of other beings:<br>Face after face looks out, and then is gone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nothing is lost, for all in love survive.<br>I lay my cheek against his sleeping limbs<br>To feel if he is warm, and touch in him<br>Those children whom no shawl could warm,<br>No arms, no grief, no longing could revive.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus what we see, or know,<br>Is only a tiny portion, at the best,<br>Of the life in which we share; an iceberg’s crest<br>Our sunlit present, our partial sense,<br>With deep supporting multitudes below.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Barbara+Ridler">Anne Barbara Ridler</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345142" data-title="Nothing is Lost de Anne Barbara Ridler" data-description="Nothing is lost.
We are too sad to know that, or too blind;
Only in visited moments do we understand:
It is not that the dead return ---
They are about us always, though unguessed.

This penciled Latin verse
You dying wrote me, ten years past and ..."></div>
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