The Writer

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Had fun alliterating my way through the alphabet, twice. Aspirations to become a writer one day, poems will suffice for the moment.

Friday, April 24, 2015

S is for Sumar. A-Z Challenge 2015

Þýtur í laufi, bálið brennur.
Blærinn hvíslar:  “sofðu rótt.”
Hljóður í hafið röðull rennur,
roðnar og býður góða nótt.
Vaka þó ennþá vinir saman
varðeldi hjá í fögrum dal.
Lífið er söngur, glaumur, gaman.
Gleðin, hún býr í fjallasal.

The leaves careened, the fire burned.
The breeze whispered: "sleep tight."
Sounds in the ocean the saddle runs,
blushes and bids you good night.
Although friends are still awake
by campfire in a captivating valley.
Life is singing, gladness, fun.
Happiness, she lives in the mountain's halls. 

Happy first day of summer.
This was a poem I used to love as a kid.
It's also a Song you'd sing on the very last day of winter.
I am looking forward to sunshine again.
Living in Iceland leaves winter for 70% of the year.
Now the future only holds the other 30% that is summer (hopefully).

-Miss Bates.


  1. I really can't comprehend the imagery of a hopeful summer and 70% winter


Feel inclined to indulge in words that intrigue.