Silence, are in his hand—birds in a snare;
Oh, I know. The snow. The effective snow
Oh, I know. The snow. The effective snow
Stunned in their voiceless way to be alive
So you can watch me watch uplifted snow
Cuts out of its width (81). Unfair
Dim, and die tonight?
Your gloved hands covering your lips' good-bye
II. Quest and Conquest
Still has to be intoned, as in a lonely
The weight of being born into exile is lifted.
Introduction by Vilhjalmur Stefansson
Along the walls are only empty niches,
By what it seems to have moved toward. In any
and chaste, lovely as lakes to the retired men
Event, the end of the painted road ends up
To reach out into its own vanishing
Dismal, endless plain—
Down the long course of the gray slush of things