- published: 03 Jun 2015
- views: 141583
Greenland (Greenlandic: Kalaallit Nunaat [kaˈlaːɬit ˈnunaːt]; Danish: Grønland [ˈɡ̊ʁɶnˌlanˀ]) is an autonomous country within the Danish Realm, located between the Arctic and Atlantic Oceans, east of the Canadian Arctic Archipelago. Though physiographically a part of the continent of North America, Greenland has been politically and culturally associated with Europe (specifically Norway and Denmark, the colonial powers, as well as the nearby island of Iceland) for more than a millennium. In 2008, the people of Greenland passed a referendum supporting greater autonomy; 75% of votes cast were in favour. Greenland is the world's largest island, over three-quarters of which is covered by the only permanent ice sheet outside of Antarctica. With a population of about 56,480 (2013), it is the least densely populated country in the world.
Greenland has been inhabited off and on for at least the last 4,500 years by Arctic peoples whose forebears migrated there from what is now Canada.Norsemen settled the uninhabited southern part of Greenland beginning in the 10th century, and Inuit peoples arrived in the 13th century. The Norse colonies disappeared in the late 15th century. In the early 18th century, Scandinavia and Greenland came back into contact with each other, and Denmark-Norway affirmed sovereignty over the island.
We walked down
a long promenade
Down a winding stair,
wide as boulevards
Vines and shrubs
grew between the steps
From the Spanish town
to the African sea
We drank wine
and toasted to the day
When she was the queen,
before the long decay
We drank wine,
slept off hangovers
Lethargy, decay
and forgotten loves
We'd awake
to the BBC
An old English queen
on the balcony
Wander 'round
abandoned consulates
An old broken chair
on the marble stair
And from the roof,
see Canary seas
The discarded runway
of Sidi Ifni
We drank wine
lying on our backs
On the warm tarmac,
in a bowl of stars
Well, I went down,
mostly on my own
Till I was alone
in that shipwrecked house
Through the porthole sea
an epiphany
I would never leave this place alive
I drink gin
with the old ex-pats
We are broken things,
from a broken past
And it comes near;
but just out of grasp
The alchemist words
that would bring her back