One must have a mind of winter br To regard the frost and the boughs br Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; br br And have been cold a long time br To behold the junipers shagged with ice, br The spruces rough in the distant glitter br br Of the January sun; and not to think br Of any misery in the sound of the wind, br In the sound of a few leaves, br br Which is the sound of the land br Full of the same wind br That is blowing in the same bare place br For the listener, who listens in the snow, br And, nothing himself, beholds br Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.