Sometimes things don't go, after all,
from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don't fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.
A people sometimes will step back from war;
elect an honest man, decide they care
enough, that they can't leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.
Sometimes our best efforts do not go
amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.
The earnest final line of the poem, a sincere wish that you, the reader, have success, is very disarming and touching. The poem as a whole is a lovely reminder that sometimes indeed, the world is not so bad. For as awful as things seem, as corrupt as our politicians, as bleak as prospects for peace in the world, as beleaguered as our environment becomes, sometimes, just sometimes, things go well. Wishing that goodness on another is noble and wonderful, and something we could all use more of.
It is worth noting, though, that usually, things don't go. Often, the frost kills the crop, we succumb to our faults, we struggle to improve and fail. People rarely step back from war, we ignore the poor at a rate that should make us all ashamed. Still, sometimes, you know? Small hopes.