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,

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