When the light falls on winter evenings And the river makes no sound in its passing Behind the house, is silent but for its cold Flowing, its reeds frozen stiffer than glass How can one anticipate the dawn, a sudden Blazing of sunlight thawing the harshest sky? How can one not remember summer evenings? Must not the tired heart sink and must not fear Bite, like an acid, wrinkles in its stone? Behind drawn curtains, gazing at the fire, Think how the earth spins dumb and bound By iron chains of frost through death-still air; And how in every street the sealed windows And orange cubes of firelight, how in houses Cuckoo-clocks imitate the spring, candles are Suns. Perpetual winter never known, Families warm their hands and wait, nor Ever doubt the season's transience.