BREK

Soaring crow

Land of living water, sands before my eyes.

My feet full of splinters and wind at night who cries. Along the tracks alone, traveller through time.

And here I feel my home, the sands and dust are mine.

 

I embrace the flow and the fireglow

from the lava as it runs.

And the soaring crow where the stories grow

and the midnight sun that burns.

 

I often dreamt about you, my land I found this day.

But dreams never came true as I lost my way.

 

I embrace the flow and the fireglow

from the lava as it runs.

And the soaring crow where the stories grow

and the midnight sun that burns.                                                     Haraldur Ægir Guðmundsson