An agitation of the air, A perturbation of the light Admonished me the unloved year Would turn on its hinge that night. I stood in the disenchanted field Amid the stubble and the stones, Amazed, while a small worm lisped to me The song of my marrow-bones. Blue poured into summer blue, A hawk broke from his cloudless tower, the roof of the silo blazed, and I knew that part of my life was over. Already the iron door of the north Clangs open: birds, leaves, snows Order their population forth, And a cruel wind blows.