2021.01.18.
The Iceland Song
You people who inherited misery!Destitute and thirsty at the bountiful springs of life.
Little nation, charged with mighty sins,
erect, in deed, the mark of will -
will is all you need.
Believe in your own hands, and not in miracles!
Raise the plow, there's a tussock in your way!
The dreams of books,
the merry sound of poetry,
turn into wake and work.
You son of champions,
don't look so longingly across the ocean,
don't stand dismayed by the old, fallen house,
build a new one, bright one, warm one,
break the foundations of the other.
Look outside and be enlightened,
look outside, but don't forget our mother.
Don't abuse the land,
don't break the bond,
the commandments of your heart.
See, over ocean and land,
vacant and neglected, looks the sun.
I am sure, that even though nights are long at Christmas,
there is more to do than weaving and spinning,
if you look closely.
Trouble and disaster comes of sleeping,
but don't flee! You didn't sleep yourself to death.
Those, who want
to wake up and understand
will find a thousand ways.