lived on high, You´d lean on the wind when the wind came by, You´d say to the wind when it took you away: »That´s where I wanted to go to-day!«? (sama yrking) ...og leiðin lá Oman á Sand eftir hesa skygging [...] Where am I going? The high roocks call: »It´s awfull fun to be born at all.« Where am I going? The ring-doves coo: »We do have beautiful things to do.« (úr somu yrking.) Av Skarðinum í henda sangskála rak [...] clouds sail by, Litle ones, baby ones, over the sky. Where am I going? The shadows pass, Litle ones, baby onces, over the grass. (úr somu yrking) Elsa, sum hevur røtur á Selatræ, aldi tónan fram úr eini valling