Wallace Stevens - The Course of a Particular lyrics

Today the leaves cry, hanging on
Branches swept by wind
Yet the nothingness of winter
Becomes a little less
It is still full of icy
Shades and shapen snow

The leaves cry one holds off
And merely hears the cry
It is a busy cry, concerning someone else
And though one says that one
Is part of everything

There is a conflict
There is a resistance involved
And being part is an exertion that declines:
One feels the life of that which
Gives life as it is

The leaves cry it is not
A cry of divine attention
Nor the smoke-drift of puffed-out heroes
Nor human cry it is the cry of leaves
That do not transcend themselves

In the absence of fantasia
Without meaning more
Than they are in the final
Finding of the ear, in the thing
Itself, until, at last
The cry concerns no one at all