Quiquern

by Rudyard Kipling

　　The People of the Eastern Ice, they are melting like the snow--

　　  They beg for coffee and sugar; they go where the white men go.

　　The People of the Western Ice, they learn to steal and fight;

　　  They sell their furs to the trading-post: they sell their souls to the white.

　　The People of the Southern Ice, they trade with the whaler’s crew;

　　  Their women have many ribbons, but their tents are torn and few.

　　But the People of the Elder Ice, beyond the white man’s ken--

　　  Their spears are made of the narwhal-horn, and they are the last of the Men!

　　          --Translation