A hringur (ring) of clouds floats above the cloak of heaven
And a blind svanur (swan) parades along the snowy shores
A dreamy hvalur (whale) dances in an ocean of oil
I listened all day to the ghost of a rithöfundur (writer) singing
My left hand in visor, my right hand drank a drykkur (drink) of light
Warmed to the bone by a thoughtful sun. The draugur (ghost)
Of the place caressed my cheek and the wind played with my wild locks
I took the insensible lyfta (elevator) which led to the immense skies
Reykur (smoke) came out of my ears, the clouds faded away
I met a blind beggar on my way
And a sendiherra (ambassador) of crime, a highwayman
A man who does not respect the cry of any Dómkirkja (cathedral) organ
The smoke invaded my skristofa (office) of work by my open window
An old-fashioned plata (record) was blaring in Reykjavik
And the lilja (lilac) skies harangued my monotonous happiness
I followed with my eyes the curve of the evening and the movements of the hands of the klukka (clock) on the wall
Hammingja (happiness) is fleeting like the parade of a stjarna (star)
Friend, prevent me from committing the unthinkable, from taking the life of this brigand
Who abandoned me one evening hvítur (white) to the evils of solitude
I arrived at the threshold of existence without farangur (baggage) nor love,
And the ghost of my joys dances before my closed eyelids
My kross (cross) is made of velvet, and I sleep while caressing it
The autumn of my thoughts and my heart has come
And I walk without respite in the forest, bewitched by all this smoke
Bless (goodbye) pretentious joys and faces marked with iron
The tungl (moon) has just waned and now makes me a coffin of light