The days of the future stand in front of us Like a line of candles all alight---- Golden and warm and lively little candles. The days that are past are left behind, A mournful row of candles that are out; The nearer ones are still smoking, Candles cold, and melted, candles bent., I don?t want to see them; their shapes hurt me, It hurts me to remember the light of them at first. I look before me at my lighted candles, I don?t want to turn around and see with horror How quickly the dark line is lengthening, How quickly the candles multiply that have been put out.