End of a Year - Julian Symons

And in this year now

Remember all the harm.

The watcher on the hill

Weeps the heroic end

And under look of eyes

Or the bold clasp of hands

The lovers know their wrong.

Sleeplessly on the hill

They remember death’s eyes.

Their expected soon is now;

Although the hyacinth hands

Never knew any harm

This year’s violent end

Makes notable their wrong.

Summer was taking hands

To the blonde hair and eyes.

Now snow lies on the hill.

The year doses now,

The watcher knows the end

Of a time, though still our harm,

The dear inherited wrong.

Murmers over the hill

Nothing can be said now

But that the meeting eyes,

But that the loved hands,

But that the flowering end

Are tribal, meaning harm,

Are final, meaning wrong.

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Julian Symons (1912–1994) England

Source: Poetry September 1940, Vol. LVI, No. VI (Poetry Foundation)