Again I quoted a poet—to avoid sounding like a preacher myself—who had written, “Was Du erlebst, kann keine Macht der Welt Dir rauben.”
(What you have experienced, no power on earth can take from you.)
Not only our experiences, but all we have done, whatever great thoughts we may have had,
and all we have suffered, all this is not lost, though it is past; we have brought it into being.
Having been is also a kind of being, and perhaps the surest kind.
Then I spoke of the many opportunities of giving life a meaning.
I told my comrades (who lay motionless, although occasionally a sigh could be heard)
that human life, under any circumstances, never ceases to have a meaning,
and that this infinite meaning of life includes suffering and dying, privation and death.
I asked the poor creatures who listened to me attentively in the darkness of the hut to face up to the seriousness of our position.
They must not lose hope but should keep their courage in the certainty
that the hopelessness of our struggle did not detract from its dignity and its meaning.
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