16.6.2007 | 03:53
Timi
Timinn er margbrotid fyrirbaeri. A morgun er manudur tar til eg yfirgef Astraliu. Manudur og einn dagur tar til eg lendi a klakanum. Fyrir manudi fannst mer langt tar til eg faeri heim, nu finnst mer tad of stutt. Eg hef nu verid her i fimm manudi, mer finnst tad hafa verid likt og tveir. Eg vaeri alveg til i ad vera her i nokkra manudi i vidbot, tratt fyrir ad her se islenskt haustvedur og mer finnist eins og eg se ad fara heim i hitann. I naestu viku verd eg tuttogtriggja ara. Mer finnst eins og eg hafi faedst i gaer. Lukasi vini minum finnst tad gamalt.
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an off hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun
And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but its sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in the relative way, but youre older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death
Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the english way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought Id something more to say
Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
And when I come home cold and tired
Its good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.
You fritter and waste the hours in an off hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun
And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but its sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in the relative way, but youre older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death
Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the english way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought Id something more to say
Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
And when I come home cold and tired
Its good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.
Athugasemdir
Hömm, ertu í tilvistarkreppu eða bara tímabundin????? Og þú verður ekki mínútu lengur en þú þarft þarna á hjara veraldar. Kominn tími til að koma heim.
Alla vega er ljóðið eftir þig eða hvað?
Og var að senda þér mail mín kæra.
Lov Jójó
Jójó (IP-tala skráð) 18.6.2007 kl. 15:34
Allt i lagi, eg tori ekki annad en ad hlyda :) Og, nei ljodid er eftir Pink Floyd - eg er nu ekki nogu mikill snillingur til ad semja tetta.
Helga Tryggvadóttir, 19.6.2007 kl. 04:37
Tíminn er eins og vatnið.
Katla (IP-tala skráð) 22.6.2007 kl. 05:48
Svo máttu ekki gleyma að kaupa ástralska kók í gleri og fótboltabol, kannski pínu minni en frá Suður-Afríku;) Ég millifæri á þig pening ef Jóhanna Oddsson Haarde samþykkir skyndilega breytingu á fjárlagafrumvarpinu......
róbert (IP-tala skráð) 24.6.2007 kl. 03:00
Hvada staerd viltu? -- viltu landslidsbolinn eda einhvert slubbertalid fra sydney? (Eg maeli med landslidsbolnum.)
Helga Tryggvadóttir, 26.6.2007 kl. 11:10
Bæta við athugasemd [Innskráning]
Ekki er lengur hægt að skrifa athugasemdir við færsluna, þar sem tímamörk á athugasemdir eru liðin.