Consolation
Theodor Fontane
Console yourself, the hours rush,
And whatever may press you.
Even the worst can’t stay
And there comes another day.
In the eternal coming, fading,
Happiness lies like pain
And also find cheerful pictures
their way back to you.
Harre, hope. Not in vain
Do you count the hour strike:
Change is the fate of life
And – there comes another day.
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