A girl's sadness, and her father bemused,
Unable to know, disabled now by age
To grasp the grief now ravagingly loosed
And ripping at the face by the arrearing rage

That broke those porcelain features with a blow
And cracked them open. How, after all those arrears
Can we understand the shock that broke that brow
Across the gulf of years, across so many tears?

Is love enough and strong enough to spring
Us succoringly to her side so that we, mute,
Know we know that the silence we will bring
Will banish the invader and defeat the brute?

I am afraid that I have never found it so.
Love is not enough to make us know we know.