Genetic studies in Iceland have found that many of the women who were the founding stock of Iceland came from England and what is now France. Some were probably captured and carried off in Viking raids only 40 generations ago.
quote by Keith Henson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I love England. It's no coincidence it's the first place I moved to for a more cosmopolitan life, which is the only thing Iceland lacks.
The Iceland That Is Named Love
If you will have to go,
To the Iceland that is named Love
Take my memory along.
It is heard
That once there live a couple of swans,
They both governed each other’s heart,
Picked dreams descending into the eyes,
Wove the fabric of faithfulness with silky dialogues,
And renovated it on each day;
But what happened as the season changed,
They both flew on diverse directions,
It is heard
Since then they were not seen together.
The Iceland that is named Love,
If you will have to go there,
Please do visit the lonely tree,
Upon whose costume of the branches,
On every side the names of lovers are carved.
It is heard
That the inscribers never get a chance to rewrite,
They stamp their fingers with blood,
They lose their fortune, they accepted their defeat.
The Iceland that is named Love
If you will have to go there,
Take my memory along.
My memory is a shade in sweltering temperature
And it is a season of some village of the past.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf IX. -- Thangbrand The Priest
Short of stature, large of limb,
Burly face and russet beard,
All the women stared at him,
When in Iceland he appeared.
'Look!' they said,
With nodding head,
'There goes Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.'
All the prayers he knew by rote,
He could preach like Chrysostome,
From the Fathers he could quote,
He had even been at Rome,
A learned clerk,
A man of mark,
Was this Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
He was quarrelsome and loud,
And impatient of control,
Boisterous in the market crowd,
Boisterous at the wassail-bowl,
Everywhere
Would drink and swear,
Swaggering Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest
In his house this malcontent
Could the King no longer bear,
So to Iceland he was sent
To convert the heathen there,
And away
One summer day
Sailed this Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
There in Iceland, o'er their books
Pored the people day and night,
But he did not like their looks,
Nor the songs they used to write.
'All this rhyme
Is waste of time!'
Grumbled Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
To the alehouse, where he sat
Came the Scalds and Saga-men;
Is it to be wondered at,
That they quarrelled now and then,
When o'er his beer
Began to leer
Drunken Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest?
All the folk in Altafiord
Boasted of their island grand;
Saying in a single word,
'Iceland is the finest land
That the sun
Doth shine upon!'
Loud laughed Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
And he answered: 'What's the use
Of this bragging up and down,
When three women and one goose
Make a market in your town!'
Every Scald
Satires drawled
On poor Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
Something worse they did than that;
And what vexed him most of all
Was a figure in shovel hat,
Drawn in charcoal on the wall;
With words that go
Sprawling below,
'This is Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.'
Hardly knowing what he did,
Then he smote them might and main,
Thorvald Veile and Veterlid
Lay there in the alehouse slain.
'To-day we are gold,
To-morrow mould!'
Muttered Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
Much in fear of axe and rope,
Back to Norway sailed he then.
'O King Olaf! little hope
Is there of these Iceland men!'
Meekly said,
With bending head,
Pious Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Thangbrand the Priest
Short of stature, large of limb,
Burly face and russet beard,
All the women stared at him,
When in Iceland he appeared.
"Look!" they said,
With nodding head,
"There goes Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest."
All the prayers he knew by rote,
He could preach like Chrysostome,
From the Fathers he could quote,
He had even been at Rome.
A learned clerk,
A man of mark,
Was this Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
He was quarrelsome and loud,
And impatient of control,
Boisterous in the market crowd,
Boisterous at the wassail-bowl,
Everywhere
Would drink and swear,
Swaggering Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
In his house this malcontent
Could the King no longer bear,
So to Iceland he was sent
To convert the heathen there,
And away
One summer day
Sailed this Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
There in Iceland, o'er their books
Pored the people day and night,
But he did not like their looks,
Nor the songs they used to write.
All this rhyme
Is waste of time! "
Grumbled Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
To the alehouse, where he sat,
Came the Scalds and Saga men;
Is it to be wondered at,
That they quarrelled now and then,
When o'er his beer
Began to leer
Drunken Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest?
All the folk in Altafiord
Boasted of their island grand;
Saying in a single word,
"Iceland is the finest land
That the sun
Doth shine upon!"
Loud laughed Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
And he answered: "What's the use
Of this bragging up and down,
When three women and one goose
Make a market in your town! "
Every Scald
Satires scrawled
On poor Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
Something worse they did than that!
And what vexed him most of all
Was a figure in shovel hat,
Drawn in charcoal on the wall;
With words that go
Sprawling below,
"This is Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest."
Hardly knowing what he did,
Then he smote them might and main,
Thorvald Veile and Veterlid
Lay there in the alehouse slain.
"To-day we are gold,
To-morrow mould!"
Muttered Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest
Much in fear of axe and rope,
Back to Norway sailed he then.
"O, King Olaf! little hope
Is there of these Iceland men!"
Meekly said,
With bending head,
Pious Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Black Swans
In Iceland early one morning
A black swan without warning
Made a dramatic appearance
An extremely rare occurrence
It was actually the first of a series
That would raise many queries
Unexpectedly dreams were shattered
With Stock Markets getting battered
They called it a financial holocaust
The result of greed and blind trust
In unfettered capitalist manoeuvres
That made fools of gullible investors
Write offs and bail out plans followed
The bankers their pride finally swallowed
And set about changing their strategy
To cope with the crisis intelligently
But no one imagined that the Black Swan
Still lurking by and watching with scorn
Was waiting for an auspicious date
To announce the arrival of his mate
A second black swan sauntered in
This time with a bang and a lot of din
It spewed not fire works but smoke
Into the skies which did really choke
Not only Iceland but rest of Europe too
Flights were grounded and no one flew
The world watched in horror and fear
As the black ash blew out of the crater
Airports still look like a chaotic mess
Leaving stranded passengers in distress
Hopefully no baby swan will arrive with the stork
The adult pair having already caused enough havoc
NB: I have extended Nassim Nicholas Taleb's Black Swan Theory to describe the recent unparalleled catastrophes that hit a small country like Iceland
poem by Sandra Martyres
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They Let 'em Fail
Iceland refused to take a loan
From Banksters at the IMF
Instead let banks fail,
Kept the debt...
And sent the loan sharks home
ROTMS
Source: Bloomberg
Iceland’s President Olafur R. Grimsson said his country is better off than Ireland thanks to the government’s decision to allow the banks to fail two years ago and because the krona could be devalued.
“The difference is that in Iceland we allowed the banks to fail, ” Grimsson said in an interview with Bloomberg Television’s Mark Barton today. “These were private banks and we didn’t pump money into them in order to keep them going; the state did not shoulder the responsibility of the failed private banks.”
Ireland’s Prime Minister Brian Cowen said this week his government has discussed an 85 billion-euro ($112 billion) bailout with the European Union and International Monetary Fund after the country’s banks threatened to bring the euro member to the brink of bankruptcy. Iceland’s banks, which still owe creditors about $85 billion, were split to create domestic units needed to keep the financial system running, while foreign liabilities remained within the failed lenders.
As a consequence, “Iceland is faring much better than anybody expected, ” Grimsson said. The Icelandic state’s liability on foreign depositor claims stemming from Icesave accounts at failed Landsbanki Islands hf should be put to a national referendum, he said.
“How far can we ask ordinary people - farmers and fishermen and teachers and doctors and nurses - to shoulder the responsibility of failed private banks, ” said Grimsson. “That question, which has been at the core of the Icesave issue, will now be the burning issue in many European countries.”
poem by Ray Lucero
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Iceland is the best land on which the sun shines.
Remember, the Arctic didn't have any ice. And the Northwest Passage was wide open. They were raising grapes in Scotland for God sakes, had a huge winery. Iceland was a farming community. As some of the glaciers retreated they found villages that were covered with ice.
I have two Iceland horses, a very hairy dog called Looney, and a guinea pig.
quote by Cornelia Funke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dissonance Of Images
The dissonance of Images
Where is Haiti again? Or for that matter Chile? Both nations were on
the news only a few days ago. Earthquakes and tsunamis, was it not?
Folks’ been knocking on my door wanting money to help people of
Madeira, which is nearer home so we know it is a tourist island. Ebb
and flow of tragedies, soon forgotten. Now we have vivid flicks from
an exploding volcano on Iceland, a small village has been evacuated in
case snow turns into water and drown them all. Iceland has ponies,
that produce manure, which is good for the roses. There are no trees
on the isle, and few dogs, thus it’s possible to walk in its capital without
stepping on dog turd. Not that this fable will want me to go live there.
So much news, the radio, TV, and now, on your mobile phone as well.
The dissonance of images lose all meaning, we hear and see no evil;
until black smoke rises from behind the mountain and a voice screams:
“Do you want total war? ” Heaven help us if the echo’s answer is: ”Yes! ”
poem by Oskar Hansen
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I do like to write but I also like to get and out and play. I am losing track of all the Cooper versions that I do - I have one for Iceland, different one over here.
quote by Michael Owen Bruce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It seems likely that most if not all the genetic information in any organism is carried by nucleic acid - usually by DNA, although certain small viruses use RNA as their genetic material.
quote by Francis Crick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Worldwide News
Default in Greece,
In Iceland – peace,
Protests in England,
Evacuation plans in Scotland,
Brace’s bakery success in Wales,
In The Sun read the details.
Italy is under water,
In Twee Ribiere it’s getting hotter.
Riot is in the USA on Wall Street,
Moscow is in the sleet.
Soon or right on time for Christmas shopping?
Asked King of Prussia,
Collapse of currencies in Russia.
May be snow or may be rain in Ukraine.
In Odessa the sunny weather will remain.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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When I was a teenager in Iceland people would throw rocks and shout abuse at me because they thought I was weird. I never got that in London no matter what I wore.
Unhappy Endings....
softer as 100% cotton
scented pillow case
Chanel 5 your fave
cooler as Iceland
whispers of glaciers
changing courses.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If I wasn't bound to Brooklyn, due to my own personal reasons like taking care of my mother and the fact that this is where the band is based, I would probably move to Iceland.
quote by Peter Steele
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Iceland, though it lies so far to the north that it is partly within the Arctic Circle, is, like Norway, Scotland, and Ireland, affected by the Gulf Stream, so that considerable portions of it are quite habitable.
quote by Harry Johnston
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Quiet Storm
A young girl breaks away
from her petit bourgeoisie home
and her piano lessons
to lead an entirely new life,
as one of the personnel
at an institution for
juvenile delinquents
in a remote part of
Northern Iceland.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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People are always asking me about eskimos, but there are no eskimos in Iceland.
War Nurse
She was just another war nurse
She could strike a noble pose
Caring for our young boys when a bullet laid them low
She would hover over them and cry
And pull the cover over them when theyd die
She was just another lonesome lady, lover, sister of the gun
And though france would call her darling,
She was a nurse neath the rising sun
She knew no hells or heavens, or harbors or havens
She was every mother, sister, wife and lover
Whose love a soldier boy was savin
She believed in the birth of the broad sword
She was not a shielded one
Though france would call her darlin
She was nurse neath the rising sun
She was a soldiers shrapnel sweetheart, direct from the combat zone
She was a reincarnation o fthe virgin mary
She was the hooker down in san antone
And though her heart was somewhere in iceland
Commanding the dawn patrol
Blessed in this blood and stitched into these bones
The war nurse left her soul
Blessed in this blood and stitched into these bones
The war nurse left her soul
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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