I sing to the old man, the youth, and the child.
You may call me the Yukon, the teeth of the wild.
With snow as my breath and mountains my maw,
Sweetest beast and betrayer that you ever saw.
Cry for the dreams I have shattered and lost.
Cry for the limbs I have blackened with frost.
Cry for the bellies I've shrunken and starved.
Cry for the dead in crevasses I've carved.
Cry for the lonely in nights without end.
Cry for the survivor when I claim a friend.
Cry for the explorer who never was found.
Cry for the screams that never made sound.
Cry for the lights and the ice-diamond sea,
And cry hardest for those who shall never know me.