You weigh on me, you whom I lost in death.
You’ve given me the silent charge to live for you;
So it is for me now to erase the debt of your extermination.
Until I know that with each ray of sun
You wish to warm me and to meet me;
Until I see that in each blossoming tree
There’s someone dead who wants to greet me;
Until I hear that every bird’s song is your voice
Sounding out to bless me and perhaps to say
That you forgive me that I live.
-- Viktor Frankl, 1946, from his autobiography Recollections