Central Europe
by Norman Cameron (1905-53)
Despite their boastful Margraves and their flags
The inland years--fat peasants winterbound,
Stunned by the heat of their enormous stoves,
Whimpering fear of baleful gods and wolves--
Have set a bloody darkness in their souls.
Still they can see, fixed amid this red haze
Of swimming particles, the forest-faces,
Come, following the deeper shade, to town.
They need a wind bringing up gulls and salt,
Sailors and nabobs with new foreign gifts,
To blow their crannies free of ancient fear.