A Nation I Lack Of Notion Poem by Halla Ingimars

The nation is a She
(She could of course be
a He
to, or It
if you like!)

She is enveloped in the love of this land
It gifts and goodness
And is unaware that she is bathed
In the most wonderful fragrance of earth.

As in coincidence
When sailing from the shore
Far enough
And the scent no longer remains
In our nostrils.
On the way home
You smell it

The land fragnance

She does not know
That she is embraced in
The beauty of this country.
She does not appreciate the blue in the distance
Or the colours or the shapes of the mountains
Their staggering beauty,
The black desert and the rough lava
In sharp contrast against the green fields
She is too occiped in herselve
To notice the environment

She does not hear the wind rushing,
The surf thunder and the deep woice of the waterfalls.
She does not listen to the chanting burns
Doesn't feel the breeze kiss on her cheek
She doesn't listen to the most beautiful music
Which sings in the air
All around.
Just one or two listen
And hear -

The land sings