Fróns about grounds # 43170
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Fróns um grundir. Poem by Ólafur Runólfsson. Foreword by Guðni Ágústsson.
Home by my field the stones stand
both single and alone at the same time.
There, socializing will be a problem.
because now I know that people live there.
We can't have any loud noises there.
never shout or swear at anyone.
This holy place is also ours
because you can never throw a stone there.
Their mansion, their palace, I see most splendid
if I look at the arrangement of the stones.
There is a church in the rock next door.
We meet there every day.
Their environment cannot be changed.
and nothing can disturb them.
And on spring evenings the lambs often seek
on into the hollows and find shelter there.
Home by my field the stones stand
both single and alone at the same time.
There, socializing will be a problem.
because now I know that people live there.
We can't have any loud noises there.
never shout or swear at anyone.
This holy place is also ours
because you can never throw a stone there.
Their mansion, their palace, I see most splendid
if I look at the arrangement of the stones.
There is a church in the rock next door.
We meet there every day.
Their environment cannot be changed.
and nothing can disturb them.
And on spring evenings the lambs often seek
on into the hollows and find shelter there.