Go.

Who stays in his nest and doesn’t go out. 

He doesn’t know what birds know best

Nor what I want to sing about, 

That the world is full of loveliness. 

When dewdrops sparkle in the grass 

And earth’s a flood with morning light, 

A blackbird sings upon a bush 

To greet the dawning after night.

Then I know how fine it is to live.

Heh, try to open up your heart 

To beauty; go to the woods someday 

And weave a wreath of memory there. 

Then if the tears obscure your way 

You’ll know how wonderful it is to be alive.

Anonymous Child, written in Terezin Concentration Camp, 1941