song of elli (old age) “What is plucked will grow again, What is slain lives on, What is stolen will remain What is gone is gone… What is sea-born dies on land, Soft is trod upon. What is given burns the hand – What is gone is gone… Here is there, and high is low; All may be undone. What is true, no two men know – What is gone is gone… Who has choices need not choose. We must, who have none. We can love but what we lose – What is gone is gone.
