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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=473553" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Continuation</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=473553" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The Continuation </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=473553" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It is night they have all gone to bed, since I’m old and sleep little <br>my job is to keep the ember alive in the stove, add a piece of wood<br> now and then. My granddad used to do that keeping the flames<br> alive, so when the young got up the rooms wouldn’t be too cold.<br>I sit in darkness but see through curtains snow falling adding to <br>millions of other snowflakes, I know the children will be exited, <br>the adults less so. For me it doesn’t matter, but I haven’t forgotten <br>the pleasure of a snowy landscape. It is odd, me godless man, feel <br>an inner peace, everything that has happened fits together I have <br>meet my ghosts; nothing scares me anymore except rumours of<br> a new war. As a child I knew war and all its brutality, I was hoping<br>my grandchildren would be spared. I’m nearly falling asleep but my <br>granddad awakes me, whispers about my obligations, I add a piece <br>of wood to the fire and dream of yesteryear.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Oskar+Hansen">Oskar Hansen</a></strong></div>

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