_**The poem is a masterpiece of esoteric science-fiction literature; and this is an unexpectedly impressive adaptation with a chilling dénouement**_ >_We ride in our sarcophagus in silence,_ >_no longer offering the planet violence_ >_or spreading deathly quiet on our kind._ >_Here we can question freely, true_ >_while the vessel_ Aniara_, gone askew_ >_in bleak tracts of space, leaves vile time behind._ - Harry Martinson; _Aniara: en revy om människan i tid och rum_ [trans. _Aniara: fragments of time and space_] (1956); Canto 25 >_How tremendous outer space is,_ >_h_...