Letter in Icelandic from the Ninette San-John K. Samson

[ti:Letter In Icelandic From The Ninette San] [ar:John K. Samson] [al:Provincial] [by:] [offset:0] [00:00.61]You'll recall from the sagas [00:03.54]I hope Grettir's last stand at Drangey [00:09.79] [00:12.38]How his grip on the sword [00:15.38]Made his enemies cut off his hand [00:24.25]If he'd fled here instead, [00:27.38]And had tasted this terrible coffee [00:35.88]Or read these letters you sent he'd surrender, [00:41.31]And lay the blade down [00:45.44]. [00:48.44]And it's Halloween [00:53.63]Skinny ghosts dress like cowboys [00:57.38]And rest at the railing by my door [01:08.50]On their way from the children's ward [01:16.50]. [01:20.41]Bev Monroe and his Pembina Valley [01:25.72]Boys play at the party [01:32.10]And I practice my English on nurses, [01:36.78]"Oh, that's a nice name." [01:43.97]And they may ask for mine, [01:46.85]But the burns on my back from the x-rays [01:55.22]Say I shouldn't show anyone anything ever again [02:03.22]. [02:08.10]In another year [02:13.41]I'll be buried or shivering here. [02:19.28]Coughing at the grey spittoon [02:28.28]Painted orange by the harvest moon [02:36.09]. [03:03.67]Pack up mother's clothes [03:09.48]Drive her down to the new Betel Home [03:15.35]Sell the boat to Arnison [03:24.48]And then go stand up straight [03:33.11]In the place you're longing for [03:39.67]And don't write to me anymore