Whenever the hereafter is mentioned, you flatly deny it, and regarding God too, I observe that certainty has departed and only doubt remains.

Here, the poet observes a companion's slipping faith with a candid, almost gentle melancholy rather than harsh judgment. While the idea of the afterlife is flatly discarded, even belief in God seems to have lost its grounded certainty, reduced now to a fragile, lingering doubt. It beautifully captures the modern inner drift of the heart—a quiet spiritual crisis where rock-solid conviction has walked out the door, leaving only questions behind.