The Old Year
by John Clare
The Old Year's gone away To nothingness and night: We cannot find him all the day Nor hear him in the night: He left no footstep, mark or place In either shade or sun: The last year he'd a neighbour's face, In this he's known by none. All nothing everywhere: Mists we on mornings see Have more of substance when they're here And more of form than he. He was a friend by every fire, In every cot and hall-- A guest to every heart's desire, And now he's nought at all. Old papers thrown away, Old garments cast aside, The talk of yesterday, Are things identified; But time once torn away No voices can recall: The eve of New Year's Day Left the Old Year lost to all.
John Clare was born into a peasant family in Helpston, England. Although he was the son of illiterate parents, Clare received some formal schooling. While earning money through such manual labor as ploughing and threshing, he published several volumes of poetry, including Poems Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery. After suffering from delusions, Clare was admitted to an insane asylum where he spent the final 20 years of his life.
This poem is interesting because he wrote about the OLD year and not the NEW year. Most people are making resolutions and looking forward on New Years Day.
I just found it an unusual perspective. I love unusual sometimes.
UPDATE: Yesterday I called the law office to ask if I might get to keep this years tax returns since I am not confirmed until 2013. The answer was “No, sorry, you must give the trustee all your returns for the next several years.”
Ouch. I am bummed. I hope that at least they will put that money towards my debt and not take it as a bonus for their trip to Europe. Ouch again.
There is a way to monitor them online and I will post how to do that once I get confirmed and start that process.
Goodbye old year, I hope it was the year that I made the right financial decision!