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The cold makes me
a lair from fear
places a pillow of
downy drift
under my head
a blanket of snow
to swaddle me in
I’d lay my ear to
the cracking of the ice
in the hope of hearing it
retreat
if I didn’t know
I’d be frozen fast
The ice lets no one go
My country
a spread deathbed
my initials stitched
on the icy linen
“Ættjarðarljóð” © Gerdur Kristný. By arrangement with the author. Translation copyright 2011 by Victoria Cribb. All rights reserved.
The cold makes me
a lair from fear
places a pillow of
downy drift
under my head
a blanket of snow
to swaddle me in
I’d lay my ear to
the cracking of the ice
in the hope of hearing it
retreat
if I didn’t know
I’d be frozen fast
The ice lets no one go
My country
a spread deathbed
my initials stitched
on the icy linen
Kuldinn býr mér
híði úr kvíða
færir svæfil úr
dúnmjúkri drífu
undir höfuð mér
snjóbreiðan
voð að vefja um sig
Ég legði eyrun við
brestum í ísnum
í von um að
heyra hann hörfa
ef ég vissi ekki
að ég frysi föst
Ísinn sleppir engum
Landið mitt
útbreidd banasæng
nafn mitt saumað
í hélað ver
