A love like this,
perhaps it isn't made
for mundane living.

I can still feel
the texture of your
deep yellow shirt
as I held you in my arms,
sleeping your holy sleep.

At the very centre of my fingertips,
I can still feel the sense
that I am holding life itself,
that I am holding - Infinity.

Green and new as emerging plant life,
vaster than the velvety immensity
of this Icelandic night.

Þú keyrir í gegnum æðar eins eldingu Boltinn
Og sál mín sleppur frá endalaus myrkrina;
Hljóðið af hugsunum mínum í gröfin:
Þú kveikja stig af sálinni í neista.