English poem
North Labrador
by Hart Crane (1899–1932)
A land of leaning ice Hugged by plaster-grey arches of sky, Flings itself silently Into eternity.
“Has no one come here to win you, Or left you with the faintest blush Upon your glittering breasts? Have you no memories, O Darkly Bright?”
Cold-hushed, there is only the shifting of moments That journey toward no Spring-- No birth, no death, no time nor sun In answer.