| Brosandi | Smiling, |
| Hendumst í hringi | We whirl, caught in our own eddy, |
| Höldumst í hendur | Fingers braided, the world’s rim slipping away— |
| Allur heimurinn óskýr | All creation is gauze, vague in the dusk, |
| Nema þú stendur | Except where you stand, sole and bright, |
| Rennblautur | Rain-soaked, |
| Allur rennvotur | Every fiber steeped by the downpour’s hand, |
| Engin gúmmístígvél | No galoshes shield us from the sodden earth, |
| Hlaupandi í okkur? | Do you feel the storm racing through our veins? |
| Vill springa út úr skel | Desire strains to break its shell and scatter, |
| Vindur í | The wind slides in, |
| Og útilykt af hárinu þínu | And your hair holds the wild exhale of fields, |
| Ég lamdi eins fast og ég get | I strike, driving as fiercely as I am able, |
| Með nefinu mínu | With the bridge of my nose— |
| Hoppa í poll | I leap into a puddle’s silver throat, |
| Í engum stígvélum | Bare-ankled, shod in nothing, |
| Allur rennvotur (rennblautur) | Soaked to the marrow (drenched to the soul), |
| Í engum stígvélum | Bare-ankled, shod in nothing, |
| Og ég fæ blóðnasir | And blood from my nose beads scarlet on my lip, |
| En ég stend alltaf upp | Yet always, I rise again, |
| Og ég fæ blóðnasir | And blood from my nose beads scarlet on my lip, |
| En ég stend alltaf upp | Yet always, I rise again |