Finis

There is a great heart-break in an evening sea;
Remoteness in the sudden naked shafts
of light that die, tremulous, quivering
Into cool ripples of blue and silver...
So it is with these songs:
........................................the ink has dried,
And found its own perpetual circuit here,
Casts its own net
Of little, formless mimicry around itself,
And you must turn away smile...
..................................................and forget.

Lawrence Durrell, Selected Poems, Peter Porter (ed.), Faber & Faber, 2006