Viking Sails South
Tired of ‘Greenland’ and its icy coast,
a band of us sailed south to Leif’s old place,
discussed old legends (drinking many a toast)
of Norman settlements in Spain and Thrace.
So why not us as well? Let the old stay
in frost-filled farms, friendly, familiar.
Go south! Long nights to lengthening days give way
until it seems like Equinox all year.
Bring our old gods, have garlands round them hung -
wind in soft pines like loneliness of girls -
where just to taste the water makes you young -
pink conch shells on pink sand yield up pink pearls -
we saw Njord, sea god, sleeping from our railings.
Brown women smile. Our children will be skraelings.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Robin Helweg-Larsen
would be pleased to hear them.